


Speak Up For Others

by telekinesiskid



Series: Silenced [2]
Category: Big Hero 6 (2014)
Genre: Aged-Up Characters, Alcohol Abuse, Bullying and manipulation tactics, Depression, Gaslighting, Gender Discrimination, Maladaptive Coping, Male rape, Victim Blaming, mild burn wounds, past sexual trauma, possible psychological projection, possible unreliable narrator, rape myths
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-29
Updated: 2015-02-25
Packaged: 2018-03-09 14:09:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 44,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3252659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/telekinesiskid/pseuds/telekinesiskid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Four years have passed since Hiro left Aunt Cass' bakery. He hasn't heard from her since then. Until he receives a letter on the night of his 18th birthday, delivered by a strange boy...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this is the second part of a series, set four years after the end of Say Something (first part). A couple of commenters suggested I could do something more with the story after it ended, and I decided hmmm yeah ok why not! Some people might find it interesting?
> 
> Feel free to tell me if I'm just wasting my time though haha
> 
> (oh yeah - even though both the US and Japan have like 20/21+ drinking laws, this is an AU where the legal drinking age is 18. Because....... ???)
> 
> Edit: BE WARNED! UNPLEASANT PUKING AHEAD!

So here he was. Hiro, that was. Sitting in his rented house’s basement in downtown San Fransokyo – less than a five minutes’ walk away from the Institute of Technology – surrounded by friends and presents once again. Cheap, shiny plastic hung from the walls, spelling out above all their heads: HAPPY BIRTHDAY HIRO! It was that time of year again.

It was the same as every year, but with one small exception… Hiro could drink now.

Oh – and he was also legally recognised as an independent adult with new rights, responsibilities, et cetera, et cetera.

“Eighteen, huh,” Tadashi said, falling into a couch beside him. He wrapped his arm around his now-not-so-little brother’s shoulders. “So how does it feel?”

Hiro thought about it, then shook his head slowly. “Literally no different from yesterday.”

“You won’t be saying _that_ soon,” Fred laughed, coming to stand before the two of them. “It would be my honour, Hiro,” he drawled, loud and proud and already tipsy, “to present you with… your first alcoholic beverage of this fine evening… Behold!” He exultantly held out what looked like just an ordinary beer, which Hiro hesitantly accepted. “Asahi Draft. Lager. Simple. But _good._ You’re a _man_ now, Hiro!”

He started cheering, and Hiro joined him, all the while shooting nervous glances at Tadashi. He waited until Fred had wandered over to the snacks table before murmuring to his brother, “people really expect me to drink a lot, huh…”

Tadashi laughed and ruffled his hair. “You don’t have to, Hiro. You should have one, at least, just because you _can_ now _._ ”

“That’s a stupid reason,” Hiro muttered, but he still let Tadashi take the top off his beer for him.

“C’mon, it’s a rite of passage.” His older brother picked up his own brightly-coloured can of something and clinked it against Hiro’s beer. “ _Kanpai_.” Tadashi smiled, tipped the rim against his mouth, and Hiro hastily copied him.

He struggled not to grimace as he downed a mouthful. He wished he’d just sipped at it first. It made his eyes water. “I don’t like it,” Hiro said, suddenly having to raise his voice as someone turned up the background music. “Why do people drink this?”

Tadashi laughed and clamped a sympathetic hand on his shoulder. “You get used to the taste.”

“Get _used to it?_ ” Hiro stared at him, open-mouthed, uncomprehending. “ _What?_ ”

“Hiro.” His brother waved him in closer and Hiro reluctantly leaned towards him. God, even his _breath_ stank of that awful stuff. It was like medicine. Horrible medicine that adults took recreationally. “You’ll soon learn that people don’t really drink for the taste. Think of it as a… social lubricant. Or liquid courage. You’re at a party or a bar, you’re nervous, you wanna go over there and say hi to the girl. You want to make people laugh.” He shrugged and had another drink. “People drink to have a good time.”

Hiro crossed his arms. He wasn’t convinced. “Aaaand the people who drink to get _wasted?_ ”

“Well,” Tadashi smiled, “either they’re just having a better time than you are, or they’ve got some _serious_ problems.”

Hiro frowned, confused. “How can you tell?”

Tadashi shook his head, changing topic. “Here.” He handed his younger brother his own can and took the beer off his hands. “Try that. It’s an RTD.” Hiro stared at his brother sceptically, wondering how the _hell_ he was supposed to know what that even was. Tadashi clarified for him, smirking, “Ready To Drink.”

Hiro doubted it would’ve tasted any better, but he’d been wrong. It was… fruity. Fizzy. Nice. “This one kind of tastes like lemonade,” he remarked. “…With alcohol in it.”

Tadashi smiled. “Well then, drink that one. I won’t tell Fred to revoke your new ‘man card’ because you hate beer.”

Hiro gave him a playful shove off the couch, and then Tadashi was amongst the crowd again, his presence heralded by excited cheering everywhere he went. Even at his own birthday gathering, Tadashi was still the life of the party. Not that Hiro really cared. He never would’ve thought in a million years that he could actually fill an entire _room_ with friends. Admittedly, they were mostly Tadashi’s friends, but he’d grown a lot closer to them over time. They had always been there for Tadashi, and by association they’d always been there for Hiro too.

The party looked good. Everyone looked happy and no one looked like they were having a bad time. He’d make the argument that it was an even better party than last year because he wasn’t underage anymore; now _everyone_ could openly drink. Everyone looked so lively, so energised. The only person who was just sitting there idly, not talking to anyone and occasionally on his phone, was himself. Sure, people came up to him and had a chat and gave him something gift-wrapped, and Hiro made a big show of his appreciation. But he didn’t put in the effort to keep them around. He’d never really liked parties with more than a couple of close friends anyway. Some of these people he only knew because he’d once worked with them on group projects.

At some point, Tadashi decided that he was going to do something he’d never done at his brother’s birthday party before. He was going to give a speech. A goddamn _speech._

Hiro just shook his head grimly at his older brother, from across the room, when he realised what was happening. Tadashi had a few hands and boosts help him up onto a desk, and he was handed back a glass of wine once he’d balanced himself. He cleared his throat purposefully and the room quietened down.

“Hi,” Tadashi began, grinning. “Hi there, thanks for coming. Uh, sorry, Hiro,” he called over to him. “Some of the guys thought that maybe I should say something, y’know – just a few, short words about how amazing you are. I’ll try not to embarrass you.”

 _You’re embarrassing me now,_ Hiro thought dryly. His face must’ve betrayed his feelings because some people around him started to laugh.

“So, um…” Tadashi paused in thought for a moment. “…In case some of you haven’t meet me before, I’m Tadashi Hamada – Hiro’s brother. I’m a PhD student under Professor Callaghan. I’m… I’m kind of smart.” He chuckled and opened out his arms modestly. “But my brother? He’s _far_ smarter than I am. He’s a _genius._ He’s finishing up a four-year degree he completed in _three_ years. And he’s only just turning eighteen today. I have about five years on him, but I tell you – he’s _seriously_ catching up to me. One day he’s gonna surpass me. And, instead of being envious of his raw talent and skill, I… couldn’t be more proud of him.”

Tadashi looked right at Hiro when he next spoke. It was beginning to feel oddly intimate and heartfelt for a speech that was being delivered in front of a room full of people. “I am _so proud_ of you, Hiro. And the thing is… Things could’ve easily been very different to how they are now. We… We’ve been through a lot, haven’t we, buddy?”

Hiro nodded gently.

“…Hiro wanted to be a professional bot fighter not too long ago,” Tadashi continued. “He would try to sneak out at night and hustle up several hundred by the morning. Not a chance I was letting him stay on that path. Not only would he have ended up in _prison,_ ” he gave Hiro a severe expression for a second, “but he would’ve wasted all that talent and hard work and _potential_. I think that I would feel like… I failed as his big brother if I let him do that… So, uh.” He raised his glass. “I think I’ve gone on for long enough, so I’ll just say… Happy birthday, Hiro. I love you. You’re gonna do just fine… To Hiro!”

The whole room lifted their drinks into the air and shouted Hiro’s name in unison. Then applause and whistles and cheers erupted all at once as Tadashi downed his entire glass, jumped down, and walked over to his younger brother. “How was it,” he asked, laughing, “Did it sound as awful as it did in my head?”

“Worse,” Hiro said. He scoffed a little. But it was hard not to look unaffected by that speech. “…Thanks.”

Tadashi leaned down and gave his brother a brief hug. He clapped him on the back several times. “Enjoy your party, bro.” And then he disappeared once again.

The pace of the party was picking up. The music took on more bass, the number of empty bottles and cans started rivalling unopened ones, and people told more and more ridiculous stories to one another. When a couple of drunk girls started begging Hiro to dance with them, he decided that maybe it was time he stepped outside for a few minutes. Or thirty.

It wasn’t until he got outside that he realised just how _hot_ it had been in the basement. He could _feel_ the music thumping through the walls, but he couldn’t really hear it anymore over the sounds of San Fransokyo’s thriving night life. He sat himself down on the concrete stairs leading up to their door and just watched the street for a while. It was calming. It was nice. The drink tasted fine and he was beginning to feel a little bit of that ‘buzz’ that everyone talked about.

He was already watching pretty much every person that walked by their place. But he hadn’t expected a young boy – who looked almost exactly like Hiro had when he was about eight years old – to walk up the short steps to stand in front of him. “Hamada?” he asked in a chirpy, pre-pubescent voice. “Hamada Hiro?”

“Uh…” Hiro had been caught well off guard by this kid. Hiro had absolutely no idea who he was. “Uh, yeah?”

The kid beamed and whipped out an envelope from inside his coat. He held it out for Hiro. “For you! _Tanjoubi omedetou gozaimasu!_ ”

“Uh… Thanks. A-Arigatou gozaimasu.” The kid seemed like he was practicing his Japanese, probably for school, so he indulged him. Hiro took the envelope from the boy and looked at the front. All it said was ‘Hiro’ in fancy linkage. He gazed up at the mysterious boy again. “…Onamae ha nandesu ka?”

The boy grinned. “Takahiro desu!”

 _Takahiro..._ No, Hiro had definitely never heard of him before. He was just about to ask Takahiro how he knew him when the kid suddenly jumped back down the stairs.

“Bye-bye, Hiro-san!” he cried, waving as he broke into a light run down the street. He was gone.

 _…Well, that was weird._ Maybe he was just a late-night delivery boy or something.

Hiro sighed and took a closer look at the envelope. It wasn’t white, he quickly realised; it was a very light pink. He opened it up and pulled out a letter, which he flattened out on his thigh. He started reading, curious and so, so trusting.

From the very first line – _Dear Hiro –_ he knew _exactly_ who it was from.

It was strange. The alcohol had mellowed him out a little, at least his exterior. Outwardly, he must’ve looked like he was reading nothing more rousing than an electricity bill. But, on the inside, he was numb and aching and tense. Like he was holding back a scream.

He didn’t know what possessed him to go on reading. But he did.

_I know it has been some time since we last talked to each other. But I could not help but notice the other week that today would be the day you were born, eighteen years ago. Eighteen years! Where does the time go! Oh God, I hope I haven’t given away just how old I really am._

_Anyway, I wanted to write to you to wish you a very happy birthday, Hiro. You’ve grown into a handsome young man – at least from the pictures I’ve seen of you in the papers. I’ve heard that you’ve almost completed your degree, which is amazing when I remember that Tadashi just finished his last year! You truly are a genius. I know that you’re going to do great things one day. We’re all very proud of you. I’ll bet that your mum and dad would be so proud of you, too._

The letter was starting to shake in Hiro’s hands now. He couldn’t read the rest of this out here. He stuffed the letter in his pocket, barged through the front door, and locked himself away in his bedroom. He pulled the letter back out so quick and mercilessly that he almost ripped it.

_I have actually been meaning to contact you for a while now, but I suppose I never had a good enough opportunity until now. Essentially, I was hoping that maybe we could meet again. I want to speak with you, face to face, so I can apologise for all of the awful things I put you through and maybe explain why I did them in the first place. A little closure – that’s what they call it, right? – might do us some good. You should drop by the bakery whenever you’re free – I’m always there, obviously. You’re perfectly welcome to bring Tadashi along if you don’t feel comfortable going alone; that’s completely understandable. That man hardly visits me enough anyway. I know it’s difficult, but **please** consider it, Hiro. I want us to be on good terms again. I want to spend time with both of my nephews again._

_But, if meeting me in person is too troublesome for you, then I wouldn’t mind some correspondence like this. Something is better than nothing, right?_

_I hope you are well, my darling nephew. See you soon, hopefully._

_Sincerely, and with love, Aunt Cass._

Once Hiro had finished the letter, he wanted to scrunch it up into a little crinkled ball and throw it out the window. He wanted to tear it all up into little pieces and stuff them in his mouth. He wanted to take up a lighter and set it on fire in a trash-can. He wanted to pretend that this letter didn’t exist and Aunt Cass had never tried to get in touch with him again.

_Bad choice of words._

He put his hands over his face. He didn’t feel right. He felt… restless, like he needed to keep animate, like he needed to put it out of his mind any way that he could. He was sure the only thing keeping him from tearing his own hair out was because he was lightly intoxicated from his first ever alcoholic drink.

_It’s not the first drink._

He used the wall to help himself back onto his feet. He’d finished off his Ready-To-Drink and now he needed more. He needed a _lot_ more.

He went into the small kitchen. There was no one around. Everyone was still in the basement. _Good._ He threw open the fridge and searched for a can or a bottle or _something_ that _wasn’t_ red wine and _wasn’t_ beer. He ended up trying to mix his own drinks, pouring straight vodka into a glass with some old lemonade. It was more spirits than it was any actual flavour but he didn’t let the kick knock him back. He downed it all until the inside of his mouth felt thick and numb. He wanted his entire body to feel like that.

His brother came up to see him, not too long after he’d finished his third drink. “ _There_ you are!” he cried, slapping a hand so hard on his back that Hiro almost dropped his glass. “Hiro, what are you doing up here? There’s alcohol downstairs too, you know. C’mon – everyone’s been asking where the birthday boy’s gone!”

The hand on Hiro’s back tried to yank him by the shirt, back downstairs to the party, but Hiro resisted. He grasped the edge of the table, braced himself, and shouted, “Let me _go!_ ”

Tadashi did so, more out of shock than anything else. “What’s wrong with you? Look, you _have_ to come down now. We’re running out of our snacks – even the disgusting ones. We need you to cut the cake for us.”

_I don’t want cake. I hate cake. Why did you think that I wanted cake? Cake is disgusting. Cake reminds me of her._

The alcohol was really starting to kick in now, hard and fast. But it wasn’t doing him any of the good he’d hoped it would. Instead of feeling light and relaxed and flighty, he felt like he’d made a terrible mistake. He already felt so heavy and _drunk,_ and it hadn’t even fully hit him yet. It was still going. It was just going to get worse and worse. He started to feel scared.

He started to feel sick.

“Tadashi,” Hiro gasped, shaking and nauseous. He held up the letter he was clutching. “Read this.”

His brother still didn’t get it. “Hiro, _come on –_ this can all wait until later! Come and have a good time with us! Your friends are all waiting for you-“

“ _Read it!_ ” Hiro shouted, spinning around and shoving the letter in his face. _Oh God,_ he thought. He shouldn’t have spun around so fast. The entire room was swaying now. He felt like he’d lost his sea legs on a goddamn _ship_ that was about to get wrecked. The nausea was so loud and painful in his chest and in his head and in his stomach and in his _body_ that he wanted to cry.

He couldn’t pay attention to his surroundings. He wasn’t sure if Tadashi had taken the letter from him or if Hiro had just dropped it, but it was gone now anyway. And he didn’t care anymore. He _knew_ now that throwing up was inevitable. It wasn’t just a matter of keeping calm and still and taking deep breaths anymore – he needed to find a bathroom _right now._

No, he couldn’t wait that long. The nausea built up and up and up until he found himself leaning over the kitchen sink, bringing up bile and liquor he clearly couldn’t handle, and no food. He felt like a sober man stuck in the body of someone who was dying, and he just kept retching, hoping every time that it would be the _last_ time. And he couldn’t help but _hate_ himself for doing something so, so _stupid._ He started crying. He hadn’t cried since…

He didn’t know which he hated more. The consequences of his reckless drinking, or what had driven him to recklessly drink in the first place.

He knew someone was looking out for him because he was suddenly dragged away from the kitchen and hustled into what appeared to be their bathroom. The floors felt like jelly by then, the walls merely a suggestion of solidity. Someone was pulling back his hair for him as he leaned further into the toilet bowl and unleashed the most hellish sounds.

It hadn’t been the most ideal way to spend the night of his eighteenth birthday. With his head hung low over a toilet bowl, sobbing and retching, tears mixed with puke.

“Jesus Christ, Hiro…” he heard Tadashi lament from behind him. “Jesus…”

Of course it was his brother who was helping Hiro through this ordeal. He was gently pulled back from the toilet and was handed a big glass of water. Hiro used to it wash his mouth out before he had a proper drink. He wanted to drink as much as he could so he would sober up faster, but every gulp just heightened his ever-present nausea. He knew he was just going to bring up any liquids a minute later, but he still tried.

As Hiro sat kneeled on the bathroom floor, sucking in deep breaths between gulps of water, he could feel the aching nausea begin to subside. None of that made him feel better than vomiting did, but it did help. Still, it looked like the only thing he could do now was wait it out. Drink more water. Try to calm down. Try not to think about it.

At some point Tadashi had to leave him as their friends begun wandering around the upper levels, looking for either of the Hamada brothers. Hiro had quietened down enough now that he could hear his brother just outside, talking soberly to a very drunk crowd. He was making everyone leave. One by one, Tadashi thanked them all for coming and apologised for stopping the party so abruptly. He apologised for Hiro’s sudden absence and evaded any questions regarding his current whereabouts.

Someone even jokingly suggested that Hiro had drunk too much. Hiro hadn’t heard his brother laugh so nervously in his entire life.

Even as Hiro felt himself slip into unconsciousness, her words still haunted him. They clouded and swirled in his head, repeating again and again, until he felt petrified with that same familiar sense of continuous, apprehensive _dread_ he always felt, back when he was still living at the bakery. When he was still under her roof and under her control.

And she wanted him to go back…?

_I hope you are well, my darling nephew._

_See you soon, hopefully._

He would vomit again, but he didn’t have the energy.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the comments and kudos! It's much appreciated! Glad to see some of you are just as excited/scared for this story as the last one hahaha

When Hiro came to what must’ve only been a couple of hours later, his throat felt like it was on fire and his head was pounding. The pain and panic wasn’t nearly as intense as it had been, but it was still there, thumping dully. More than anything, he’d hated the loss of control being drunk. He couldn’t even _stand_. He made a silent vow to never drink again as long as he lived.

Then again, he imagined everyone did that after they’d made themselves sick.

He was on bed, still clothed, but wearing a different shirt to the one he’d had on at the party. There seemed to be some damp splotches on his pants, and some of the front strands of his hair were damp too. He felt mortified for a second wondering if he’d been so out of it that he’d just _assumed_ lunging for the kitchen sink meant that he’d released the contents of his stomach into it. Maybe he’d thrown up all over himself and the floor and left Tadashi to clean it up. It was painful just to remember it all.

 _I didn’t handle that well,_ he thought dimly, embarrassedly. Ashamedly.

It was dark, but his eyes were getting adjusted enough now that he could make out a big bottle of water on his bedside table and a bucket just underneath that. He had a big drink and gradually edged himself out of bed, feeling tired and sore and heavy. He was probably expected to just stay in bed until morning, but Hiro thought he needed to apologise to his brother now. He was probably still cleaning up vomit and the mess in the basement. He had to help to show he wasn’t a _complete_ asshole.

Not only that, but he was _starving._ He felt like he hadn’t eaten in days.

The light in the kitchen was on. Hiro walked in to find his brother sitting at their small round dining table, hunched over a cup of tea, his cell phone pinned between his ear and shoulder. He was on the phone? At this hour?

Hiro didn’t announce his presence, but he didn’t have to. Tadashi quickly noticed him there and murmured “I’ve gotta go, I’ll talk to you soon” into his phone before ending the call. He put down the tea and turned to his younger brother, face full of worry. “Hey - what’re you doing up?”

Hiro shrugged. “Just woke up, I guess. Thought I might…” He dropped his gaze to the floor and pulled an apologetic expression. “Help you clean up or something…”

His brother smiled a little. “Already did that, champ. You feeling OK?”

“Yeah…” Hiro rubbed the back of his neck. “Lot better… Sorry about that, I just sorta…”

Tadashi waved dismissively, like rubbing his younger brother’s back as he was violently ill from drink on his eighteenth birthday was nothing. “You just had a bit too much, that’s all. You learned your lesson. Why don’t you go back to bed? Get some rest.”

Tadashi stood up to wash out his mug, looking like he was about to leave too, and that was when Hiro noticed the faintly pink, faintly crinkled letter laid out on the table. It was her letter.

He suddenly wasn’t so hungry anymore.

Hiro picked it up again and felt it between his fingers, re-read it all again, just to check that it was real and it hadn’t been some kind of horrible alcohol-induced hallucination. It felt about as real as anything else felt right now. “Did you read this?” Hiro asked.

Tadashi was washing the dishes now. He paused for a second before responding. “…Yeah I did.”

Hiro turned to stare at his back. Yeah he did? That was all? “Well… What do you think?”

Tadashi shrugged. He replied slowly, like he was carefully picking each individual word as he went, “I think that you should see her.”

“What? Are… Are you serious?” Hiro felt into a dining chair, back-to-front, and clung to it like it was his anchor. He couldn’t understand what his brother was saying. It was incomprehensible. “You think I should _see her?_ Like an old friend or something?”

“I’ll go with you,” Tadashi assured calmly. He was obviously washing the dishes just as something to do, because he was doing a pretty poor job of it. “You won’t be alone.”

“That… That doesn’t fucking matter!” Hiro cried. The panic was just bubbling up in his throat, trying to get out in screams. He tried to mask his fear with anger. He’d look like a stronger person that way, probably. “Don’t you remember what she _did_ to me?”

“That was four years ago, Hiro. Things have changed.”

“What do you mean _changed?_ ”

“I _mean,_ ” Tadashi rounded on him, frustrated, “things have _changed._ She’s not… like that anymore. She got help, she’s a better person now.”

“Oh yeah?” Hiro was aggressively sceptical. “And how would _you_ know? You couldn’t even tell when she _was_ ‘like that’.”

“I just know, Hiro, OK? Trust me. It’s safe now.”

Tadashi focused his eyes on Hiro meaningfully, as if expecting him to just agree and be convinced, just like that, and he turned back to the dishes.

“…Yeah, she mentioned that you still see her sometimes. Talk to her.” _Acknowledge her existence._ Hiro tried to make himself sound as betrayed as possible. Because he really was. “I can’t believe you did that, and behind my back…”

Tadashi sighed wearily. “It’s not like that, Hiro.”

“So why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because it just would’ve made you upset. And look – you _are_ upset. Surprise, surprise.”

Hiro was shocked into silence for a moment. He didn’t like the way his brother was talking, like Hiro’s behaviour was just so _tired_ and predictable. Tadashi didn’t sound like he was very sympathetic anymore. In fact, it sounded like he’d forgiven Aunt Cass for her transgressions a long time ago.

“Why…” He was starting to shake. He _really_ didn’t want to end up crying again. His throat couldn’t take it. “Why do you both… think that I should just… get over it?”

“Not _get over it,_ Hiro. Just… move past it, in a healthy way. That’s why Aunt Cass wants to see you. She wants to apologise and reconnect with you. She wants you to understand that she _knows_ what she did was wrong.”

Hiro muttered, “If she knows that then why doesn’t she turn herself in?”

There was that sigh from Tadashi again. Like Hiro was just being a ridiculous, stubborn little boy. He pulled the plug on the sink of cold, half-washed dishes. His next words were rather blunt. “Look, Hiro, life is too fucking short not to forgive family.”

Hiro stared, slack-jawed and shiny-eyed. He felt like Tadashi had just slapped him right in the face. “…Life’s too fucking short to waste it on people who don’t _deserve it_ ,” he countered.

Tadashi just shook his head as he went over to the letter and tapped it. He wasn’t in the mood to argue with him. “Sleep on it, Hiro. Maybe you’ll change your mind in the morning.” He made his way out of the room, pausing in the doorway to say, almost sarcastically, “Happy birthday,” before disappearing.

Hiro waited until Tadashi was in his bedroom before he started kicking the furniture.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gosh I'm sorry everyone seems to hate Tadashi! D: (you're gonna hate him even more after this chapter ahaha... ha...)
> 
> Thank you for the comments!

A few days had passed now since Hiro had turned eighteen. The students of SFIT were on break, and Hiro had been gradually working on his holiday homework, just whenever he felt enthused, knowing that he’d have it all finished long before the break was over, so he was trying to draw it out. Tadashi on the other hand – the work never stopped for him now. He was spending almost full nine-to-five days at the Institute, tinkering with his final, _final_ robotics project, and writing up a report that was thick enough to impersonate a novella.

Hiro vaguely remembered what he’d been shown a few months ago. His brother was working on what was essentially a robotic nurse he called ‘Baymax’, which he had actually developed a prototype of a few years ago. But now he was collaborating with about three other people to improve the robot, and they were working towards getting Tadashi’s design manufactured and implemented wherever they were needed most: hospitals, palliative care clinics, retirement villages – within people’s own homes, even.  

His dream was coming true, Tadashi had said quietly one night over some green tea. He was changing the world. He was leaving his mark. His creations were going to help a lot of people.

Hiro saw actual tears in his brother’s eyes. He couldn’t have been more proud of that nerd.

\-------

Things got dull when there were no classes to go to and his brother wasn’t available to hang out with him most of the time. Hiro hadn’t made many friends at SFIT – not anyone he would willingly spend an afternoon with anyway. So he looked forward to about six or seven o’clock when Tadashi would walk through the door, tiredly announce his arrival, and sit down to a meal Hiro had prepared. Hiro’s cooking skills hadn’t at all improved, and he could tell from Tadashi’s staring and poking and prodding that he wasn’t sold on those skills yet either, but it wasn’t as if Tadashi was going to begin another dinner from scratch. He still ate his plate of crunchy green beans and blackened chicken like it was his first meal.

“How was… stuff?” Hiro asked.

“Stuff was good,” Tadashi responded, opening up a beer and taking a _huge_ gulp. Hiro winced just thinking about the taste. He didn’t know how on earth his brother could drink that. Tadashi caught him staring and jokingly held out the bottle to him. “Want some?”

“Nope.”

“You sure?”

“Pretty sure.”

“It’s good,” Tadashi said temptingly, “Black malt.”

Hiro pushed the bottle back. “I’ll throw up all over your food,” he threatened.

“Couldn’t taste any worse than it does now,” Tadashi laughed, to which Hiro kicked him.

They had a good atmosphere between them. They chatted idly for a while, focusing more on talking than eating, until Tadashi came out with a question that really threw Hiro off his relaxed demeanour. He’d given Hiro absolutely no warning whatsoever before he asked, so casual, like he were asking the weather, “so have you thought about seeing Aunt Cass?”

Hiro felt himself just stop for a while. Tadashi hadn’t mentioned it since his birthday, and Hiro had refused to ‘consider’ it, though it didn’t stop him from thinking about it. He hadn’t wanted to, but his mind did wander. He still had no real desire to find out how things would really go though.

“No,” Hiro eventually answered. “I… I told you, I… I never want to see her ever again.”

Tadashi didn’t respond. All he did was give a curt little nod, wipe off his mouth with a napkin, and stand up from his chair. “Thanks for dinner,” he said, as he started to walk away.

Hiro continued to sit there, feeling the panic build up and up inside him. The way Tadashi had just… _walked out_ like that, after he’d said no, just _tore_ at his heart. His face grow hot and he felt tears well up in his eyes. Oh God, he wasn’t _crying again,_ was he? He seemed to be crying a lot these days.

He was already so emotionally vulnerable and socially _starved._ Why was his brother doing this to him…?

Hiro didn’t run after his brother, but he didn’t have to. He came back in a few minutes later, wearing a jacket. He picked up his phone from the table without even raising his eyes to his brother’s. “I’m going out,” he murmured. “I’ll be back later.”

_Dashi…_

Hiro trembled. They were supposed to play games and watch movies tonight. They were supposed to hang out together, like Tadashi had promised. Had he forgotten? Was Hiro being punished for saying no to making amends with his abuser? Was Tadashi going to hold out on him until then? Was he just going to keep this distant, disappointed attitude up until… Hiro didn’t know. He finally caved?

Hiro broke. It didn’t take him a _minute_ to cave. He _wasn’t_ going to lose his brother over this – this stupid thing. He’d see her and then it would be over and done with it. He felt so panicked and abandoned in that second that he felt as though seeing Aunt Cass in the flesh was _nothing_ compared to seeing Tadashi walk out on him again.

 _Maybe it will be OK,_ he reasoned hastily, telling himself the same thing over and over again to really hammer it in. He had to hammer it in. _Maybe I am_ _being a stubborn little brat by not going, maybe this is what being an adult is all about, facing your fears and doing it anyway, it won’t be so bad…_

Hiro jumped up and actually _grabbed_ Tadashi before he could even so much as put his shoes back on. “ _Fine,_ ” he practically yelled, much to Tadashi’s surprise. “I’ll see Aunt Cass again,” Hiro conceded, upset and indignant. He started rattling off some terms of agreement, which Tadashi amusedly indulged. “But it’s only this _one time._ Just because I see her once, that doesn’t mean I’m going to _ever_ see her again, so don’t assume that. And you have to stay with me the _entire time_. You can’t even leave the room just to use the bathroom.” He grabbed his older brother’s arm, gentler this time, but no less desperate. His eyes were earnest as they stared up at Tadashi now. He felt quite young again, and he hated it. “You _cannot leave me alone with her._ ”

Tadashi was silent for a while. Then he broke a smile and ruffled his younger brother’s hair. He _laughed_ , even.

 _Relief_ flooded throughout Hiro’s body, releasing the tension to see his older brother put down his moped keys and stay with him, but it worried Hiro that Tadashi responded that way to his… very serious, very sincere request. Did he think Hiro was just being melodramatic?

Hiro didn’t understand this side of his brother. They were _so_ in tune all their lives. They could go months or _years_ without any major problems or disagreements. Tadashi was one of the greatest big brothers who ever lived. But when it always came back to this particular subject… He wasn’t so great anymore. He was terrible.

Hiro hugged Tadashi. But he still couldn’t help feeling that, for the first time in his life, he’d been bullied by his older brother.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy. Drama ahead.
> 
> (This is really dumb but I only recently worked out that Aunt Cass' cafe has a name. Which I now know. Not only that, but I've been mistakenly calling it a bakery this entire time gosh :O can we just pretend that I'm not stupid and where I'm from 'cafe' and 'bakery' are used pretty interchangeably?? yeah.... sorry for any confusion folks)
> 
> As always, thank you so much for the comments!

Tadashi seemed to have organised the whole thing without him. Hiro had just been drifting around the house one day, distracted and antsy and avoiding his homework, when he received a call from his brother on his lunch break. Tadashi said that they were all set to meet Aunt Cass, next Sunday afternoon, when she closed up shop around five o’clock. She had even offered to make them dinner, or give them cakes on the house, if they felt like it.

Hiro had found himself almost immediately trying to back out of the promise he’d made to his brother to see her. He tried to say that he was busy on Sunday afternoon; he was… seeing friends he didn’t like, watching theatre films he didn’t care for, picking up parts, going bot fighting, doing _something._ He said he would rather write her a letter as a cheap alternative to seeing her; he’d rather do that and pretend it wasn’t real than actually sit across from her, _having dinner with her._

Tadashi said they’d talk about it later before hanging up on him. But they didn’t talk about it later.

That had been Friday. It was Sunday now, just a few hours after lunch. Tadashi had knocked on Hiro’s bedroom door and given him an hour’s warning. They were leaving in an hour.

Hiro had just been lying on his bed, gazing up at the ceiling. He hadn’t even showered yet. He didn’t know what to do. The thought occurred that he could sneak past his brother, down the stairs, out the door, spend the entire night downtown, and then return later to face his brother’s wrath. But that didn’t seem like a better alternative. In fact, it seemed like a less attractive one entirely.

He thought about making himself sick again – so sick that he wouldn’t be able to leave the house and he wouldn’t be in any shape to receive company, should she try to come over. It would easy. All he’d have to do is down half a bottle of spirits. Or eat some raw chicken. Or a cake.

 _Maybe this isn’t healthy_ , he thought. Maybe it really said something that he was plotting all these different ways that he could incapacitate himself, just so that he didn’t have to look into her eyes again. Maybe it meant that he just wasn’t _ready_ to see her again. He wondered if he ever would be.

Not only that, but on top of the overwhelming anxiety of seeing her, he felt _immensely_ disappointed in himself – a mimicry of the way Tadashi was feeling towards him these day. His older brother’s selective detachment and pointed silence had instilled in Hiro an almost self-hatred. He felt pathetic. He felt worthless for not being the brave person his brother _clearly_ thought he could be. He was sorry to say it, but he wasn’t strong enough to go through with all of this. That kind of strength just couldn’t be faked.

There was a twenty-minute warning now. Hiro didn’t know where the time went. But Tadashi didn’t just knock on the door in passing this time; he opened it up to check in on his younger brother. Probably to see if he hadn’t escaped yet.

“Hiro?” he asked. “Are you ready to go soon?”

“No,” Hiro muttered, not moving.

“We’re leaving in twenty minutes,” Tadashi reminded him.

“I heard you.”

Hiro assumed his brother would just tell him to move it and leave, but to his surprise Tadashi actually sat beside him. “Hey,” he said, and his tone was soft and kind and concerned. “Why aren’t you dressed yet?”

Hiro shrugged. He knew he wasn’t being particularly helpful, but he didn’t care.

Tadashi pulled Hiro up by his arm into a sitting position. He was smiling ruefully. “It’s gonna be OK, buddy,” he promised his younger brother, holding his shoulder. “I’ll be with you every step of the way, you know. I’ll be right there, right up in your space, and you won’t be able to get rid of me until _well_ after we’ve left that place. And, if she says or does anything that makes you uncomfortable, we’ll leave straight away. And we won’t look back.”

It was a nice thing for Tadashi to say – that they could leave anytime he needed to – but Hiro doubted there was much promise behind it. He’d want to leave the second he walked through her door.

Tadashi was humming at him and nudging him. He was waiting for Hiro’s affirmative response. He was waiting for Hiro to smile and say that he just got a touch of nervousness, that’s all, and that he was assured now everything was going to be just peachy fine. Tadashi wouldn’t accept any other response, so it didn’t matter what Hiro said. What Hiro said determined whether they rode in silence, or with more support and encouragement. And at least one was a little better than the other.

“OK,” Hiro said, smiling with his mouth and not at all with his eyes. “I’ll be down soon.”

His older brother gave him a brief, one-armed hug before he left him to it. “Thanks, Hiro.”

… _Thanks?_

Hiro didn’t feel like he was in his own body anymore. It was moving on its own, without his control. He got undressed, turned on the water, stepped into the shower, and suddenly he was back in his old room at the bakery. Back when the days just blended together and Aunt Cass was more determined to catch him alone for an hour than she was to run her own business. She was in the other room. She had just finished… making his skin more of her own than he ever could.

The shower was too hot. Then it was too cold. It was hard to breathe. The memories made his head spin. He didn’t _want_ to remember that – _any_ of what she did to him. He knew about all that stuff, now that wasn’t just a naïve teenager anymore, and he knew how _wrong_ it had been for her to do all that. And he was supposed to just see her and receive a half-hearted apology for _everything_ that she’d done to him?

Hiro sighed wearily. He slumped in the shower. Yeah. That was _exactly_ what he was going to do. What choice did he have.

\------

He made it, somehow. He was showered and dressed and downstairs in just eighteen minutes. Tadashi held them both up by making him change; he ordered Hiro back upstairs to put on a _nice_ shirt. As if he was supposed to be dressing up for the occasion. Hiro hadn’t thought there was anything wrong with the one he’d been wearing – an ill-fitting, stained shirt with a robot ripping off another robot’s head – but apparently there was. Hiro came back downstairs, buttoning up a blue dress shirt, which Tadashi seemed to vastly approve of by comparison.

The drive over on Tadashi’s moped must’ve lasted all of ten minutes. It went by with a blur – one big city blur – and then Hiro was standing before the establishment he _never_ would’ve imagined himself visiting again, for long as he lived. The Lucky Cat café.

It hadn’t really changed since he’d last seen it, four years ago. The colours were a little paler than he remembered, the plants out front were a little bigger. He stared up at the attic space, where he and Tadashi used to sleep. It was hard to see, but he thought he caught a glimpse of movement in the window…

“Hey.” Tadashi touched a hand to Hiro’s arm and lightly pushed him along. “C’mon. It’s OK. It’s gonna be just fine.”

At this point, it just seemed like Tadashi was saying all of this to comfort _himself._ Hiro was nudged towards the front door, and he shakily put out a hand to open it. Instantly the aroma of coffee and pastries and sweets hit him. It smelled so good. It felt so warm.

It was strange, walking back through her door again. It was like… for the past four years, he could at times pretend that his abuse had never happened. He could pass himself off as normal, untroubled. He could close the door on all of those unresolved feelings and tensions and injustices, and just get on with life to focus on more productive things. And, by coming back to the bakery, he was opening up that door again…

His older brother was always there, always just right behind him, always shuffling him along whenever Hiro’s feet refused to move. The place was empty. The tables had already been cleaned, and the chairs had already been put up on their respective tables. Well, all except one table, at the front of the shop.

“OK, you just sit here,” Tadashi murmured, seating Hiro at the table and patting him once, “And I’ll just… go get her.”

He started forward but Hiro grabbed him before he could get much further. “You said you wouldn’t leave me alone,” he hissed.

“Yeah, of course,” Tadashi replied, like he’d forgotten. “Aunt Cass!” he called, and even just Tadashi’s raised voice made the hair on Hiro’s arms stand on end. Did his brother have to shout? Did he really have to summon her? “ _Aunt Cass!”_

“ _Coming, I’m coming!_ ”

Hiro’s heart thumped in his chest. Her voice…

It was like waiting for an earthquake to hit. Her footsteps draw closer and closer until she finally appeared from behind the staff door.

Hiro was still as he watched his older brother walk over to her and effortlessly pull her into a big hug. They were laughing, smiling, talking animatedly at each other. They looked like the best of friends. They looked like a happy family should.

They both let each other go and turned to Hiro at the table. Their smiles seemed to drop almost instantaneously. Aunt Cass was the first to approach. She hadn’t changed at all in Hiro’s mind. She might’ve been slimmer or tanner, she might’ve done something different with her hair or switched to a better brand of moisturiser, but Hiro wouldn’t have known. He didn’t see those kinds of superficial details; he didn’t let them distract or confuse him. He only saw her for what she was.

“Hiro,” she whispered, sounding breathless and stunned. She seemed to be about as lost for words as Hiro was. “It’s… It’s been so _long._ You’ve grown so tall.” She tried to laugh, to lighten the suffocating tension in the room, but it didn’t work. There was absolutely no way she could make this reunion any less awkward than it was. “How are you?” she ended up asking, gentle as ever.

“I’m fine,” Hiro responded.

“Oh.” She took a deep breath. Had she been holding it for that long? “Oh, that’s… that’s great to hear.”

Her reaction made Hiro regret his answer. He shouldn’t have just given a perfunctory, plain and expected _lie_ like ‘ _fine_ ’, like he’d been asked how his weekend was going by a tram driver. He should’ve been brutally honest, like he hadn’t been, even with Tadashi. He should’ve told her about the dreams, and the low self-worth, and the lack of motivation, and the fact that he distanced himself from every person who had ever shown any romantic or sexual interest in him. Yet, she acted so _relieved_ to hear there were no lasting, long-term consequences of her actions. She acted like she’d never _really_ hurt him.

When, really, it just hurt him all the more.

He would’ve turned to Tadashi and asked if they could leave, right then and there, if she hadn’t suddenly offered to bring them some food. “Hiro?” She stared intently at him, smiling. “Would you like anything from the cabinet?” She stepped aside to show off her orderly display of detectable foods. “Anything at all?”

“Uh, I’m not hungry.”

“You didn’t have lunch,” Tadashi weighed in, sounding worried. But there was a hard edge to his voice too. “You should eat something.”

Hiro threw an irritated glance at his pushy older brother, to which Aunt Cass said, “Oh Tadashi, leave him alone. He’s an adult now after all – he doesn’t need you pestering him about his eating habits.”

“Fine,” Tadashi sighed, letting it go. “Uhhh, I’ll take a raspberry bun, thanks. And some coffee.”

“Hiro?” Aunt Cass tried to recapture Hiro’s drifting attention. “Coffee?”

“Uh… sure.”

Hiro didn’t know what was going on. They weren’t talking about the abuse; they were avoiding it completely. Pretending that it never happened. Tadashi took a seat beside him, took off his cap, and started pointing out all of the cute little changes Aunt Cass had made to her store front over the years, after they’d left. It only served to remind Hiro that his older brother had been to this placea _lot_ after they’d left.

“Come here often, huh,” Hiro murmured sullenly, so only his brother could hear. Tadashi just shook his head at him, as if to say _behave._

“Here we go,” Aunt Cass said cheerfully, setting down coffees and teas and buns on plates. Then she took a seat herself. This was all so wrong. “So,” she started, and Hiro could tell she was really making an effort to engage him. “Tadashi told me that you’ve almost finished your degree. That’s so _amazing._ Don’t you think? I remember, when I first got my degree, I could hardly believe…”

 _“Tadashi told me that you_ ” was probably the worst way Aunt Cass could start any of her sentences. He felt sharp tingles all down his spine when she said that while staring right at him, like she _understood_ just because she heard it second-hand. He just felt… massively _creeped out._ He _hated_ that she still knew about him, about what he was up to these days, about his future aspirations, and about all of his most recent and mortifying fuck-ups too, probably _._ All of these personal details of his life that he thought he shared only in complete confidence with his older brother. And here she was, using these personal details like they were conversation starters, coaxing him to talk to her.

It was just another reminder that he still didn’t have complete control over his own life. It was like, she was still there, still in his life, and he just couldn’t escape her.

They had both started talking to each other again, Aunt Cass and Tadashi. They seemed to do that a lot. Right in front of him, behind his back – it didn’t matter. He should thank his brother; at least he didn’t have to talk to her right at this very second. Hiro found his gaze drifting to the cup of coffee before him. There was an adorable chocolate stencil of a lucky cat on the foam. He picked up a spoon and starting dissecting it, distorting it, drowning it.

“Is Mochi still alive?” Hiro asked. It was a good way to bring the conversation to a jarring halt.

“W-Well… Yes, Hiro. It’s only been a few years... He’s seven now, actually.” She had a drink from her cup and stared at him curiously. “Would you like to see him? The last I saw of him, he was sleeping in the sink again.”

“Yeah…” Hiro got up from his chair. He felt wobbly on his feet but he was determined not to let anyone see that.

He moved quickly up the stairs and into the kitchen. It was a lot messier than he remembered it. There seemed to be a lot more food around, and toys. He looked in the sink and sure enough there was a cat sleeping in there. Mochi startled awake and stared at Hiro with all the remembered affection of a flea collar. Hiro scoffed. Yeah, that’s what he thought. He hadn’t been missed.

Hiro walked up another flight of stairs, to the attic. He thought he heard noises. Light thuds and bangs and cries. And the cat was right there, so… what was it? Another cat maybe?

He found his old room. The door was ajar. Those strange noises were _definitely_ coming from inside his old room. He braced himself as he pushed open the door…

There was a boy there. A young boy. Sitting on the floor, playing with toys that Hiro himself used to play with as a young boy.

Hiro’s heart clenched tight in his chest. He shook his head. _No._ She… She _wasn’t._ She _couldn’t have…_ Hiro was going to be sick. He was going to _kill her._

By the time the young boy had noticed him there, it had been too late; Hiro had already run back down the stairs – running so fast he had to catch himself from falling several times – and he stormed back into the café area. His entire body was shaking with disgust and anger and _fear._ He wished he wasn’t so terrified of her so he could just _lay into her_. “ _What the fuck,_ ” he yelled, startling them both, “ _is that boy doing up there?_ ”

Aunt Cass was so shocked she was having trouble speaking. It took a while to get her words out. “Oh, w-well, I-I-I just, gave him your old room, I-I thought that would be OK-“

“ _What is he doing here? Why is he with you?_ ”

Tadashi jumped up immediately. He was trying to calm his brother down and at the same keep a firm, supportive hand on his Aunt’s shoulder. “Hiro, it’s _not_ what you’re thinking-“

“ _Did he replace me? Are you abusing him now?_ ”

“Itoko-san.”

Hiro looked down. The boy was standing beside him, smiling.

“You’ve meet me,” he said. Hiro just stared at him. “…Takahiro desu!”

“ _Oh_ ,” Hiro cried, raising his arms only to let them fall slack by his sides again. “Taka- _hiro._ _Right_. Of course. And, not only are you keeping him up in _my old room_ , letting him play with _my old toys,_ but you’re also using him as a lackey to send these… _mocking_ letters, to _me._ ” Hiro couldn’t help but start to laugh. Everything about this was just so _ridiculous_ and _awful._ “Y-You are _so fucked up,_ Cass.”

She was hiding her face and crying now. He could hear her, clear as day, and it was like hearing birdsong at sunrise. Suddenly Tadashi was right in his face, eyes dark and full of warning. “Hiro, you _really_ shouldn’t be _jumping to conclusions._ ” He made it sound as if Hiro had just done exactly that. But Hiro didn’t hear anyone trying to correct him. “Would you _shut up?_ ”

But Hiro didn’t want to shut up. He didn’t want to bow his head and tip-toe around her and stay silent, so that everyone could keep on pretending that bad things never happened to anyone. He wanted to stand over her and scream at her some more, but he barely got out one last insult – that she was a crazy bitch who belonged in prison – before Tadashi had him dragged out the door.

Hiro felt so light-headed and sore with the way Tadashi was roughly handling him. He had the front of his shirt seized so Tadashi could yell, “ _What were you thinking,_ ” into his face. Hiro was shoved, not towards the moped, but into the street. Hiro turned back to look at his furious brother, and he actually felt afraid of him. He never thought he’d seen Tadashi so livid in his life. “You’re going back home _right now_ and waiting for me until I get back – then we’re going to have a _serious_ talk about your behaviour. Take a good, long walk back home to clear your _stupid fucking head._ ”

 _You can’t talk to me like that; you’re not my legal guardian anymore,_ Hiro wanted to say. But his stammering didn’t give him a chance. Tadashi had already gone back inside the bakery. To… what? Comfort her? Apologise for Hiro’s outburst?

Maybe Tadashi was just as fucked up as she was after all…

Hiro had already started the slow walk back home when he heard someone calling his name from behind him. “ _Hiroooo! Itoko-saaaan!_ ”

Hiro turned. It was Takahiro, running towards him. He stopped just short of Hiro, staring up with wide eyes that looked _so_ like his own it still scared the shit out of him to think about. Strangely, the kid seemed… completely unaffected by how sour relations had gone just then. “You’ll come back later, right?” he asked.

“Uh…” The boy’s question confused Hiro. Hadn’t he just witnessed Hiro being literally thrown out of the bakery? Hadn’t he just watched him yell at a lady? And made her cry? “I… wouldn’t count on it.”

Takahiro started yanking on Hiro’s arm. God, he was so small. “ _Please, please,_ ” he begged. “ _Please_ come back and play with me! You have to show me how the robots in your room work!”

The robots…? Oh. Hiro remembered now. He’d left a lot of stuff behind, including some nifty little transforming robots he kept on the shelves. He had thought Aunt Cass would’ve just sold them after he refused to take them with him when he left, but apparently not.

“I’ll think about it,” Hiro conceded, and the kid’s face just lit up like the sun.

“ _Thanks, Itoko-san!_ ” he cried, sprinting off in the other direction.“ _See you later!_ ”

Hiro watched him until he made it all the way back into the bakery. He started to think about the name he was called. _Itoko, Itoko…_ It had been a while since he’d spoken any real Japanese. But he knew that word’s meaning from school. It was right there, in his head…

Oh, yeah. _Cousin._


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, hopefully this clears up why Tadashi is such an asshole! (Note: This isn't to say that Tadashi is justified in being an asshole. I am merely trying to explain why he acts the way that he does.)
> 
> Slight warning: This chapter is heavy with tears, yelling, rape myths and victim-blaming.

Hiro had had plenty of time to “clear his stupid fucking head” on his way back home. It hadn’t taken him very long to come to the conclusion that it would be better for him and Tadashi to spend some time apart. He loved his brother – unfortunately – and he didn’t want to completely ruin what used to be a great relationship by hanging around, just waiting to butt heads with him on extremely sensitive issues. Hiro didn’t have the energy to keep doing that.

Besides, his brother was twenty-two now. He had his own hectic and exciting life to enjoy without having to look out for his younger brother all the time. It was weird that they were both still living together, surely.

It was OK, Hiro told himself calmly. He was eighteen. He was officially an adult now. His financial situation would never be too dire when he had bigger and better robots to fight with. He would just… find a place and move out. It was no big deal.

It was for the best…

He’d ended up taking a lot more time to walk home than usual. It should’ve taken him less than an hour but he must’ve been walking for well over an hour now. He’d started out with a good and steady pace, but the closer and closer he came to home, the more and more his feet dragged. His stomach was doing all kinds of impressive flips and somersaults, just thinking about what would happen once he got back. Tadashi had looked so _furious_ with him, back at the café…

He finally made it back to his doorstep, almost _two hours_ later, only to realise that he didn’t have his house keys on him.

“ _Fuuuckk,_ ” he groaned, sliding down the door. He curled up into a corner and seriously considered just calling Tadashi and just telling him to come home and let him inside – even going so far as to hold out his phone with his brother’s face and number bright on the screen. But Hiro hesitated. He was _terrified_ of just being yelled at again, or hung up on. Like his needs weren’t important.

He briefly wondered if his brother would even come back that night. Tadashi sometimes did that, when he was _really_ frustrated with him. Was Hiro just going to have to sleep on the welcome mat, like some kind of neglected house pet?

Fortunately, Hiro didn’t have to think about the possibility for more than ten minutes before he saw Tadashi pull up in his moped. But Hiro was cautious against being relieved to see him.

Tadashi had walked up the short steps to their front door, clearly not expecting his younger brother to be curled up there. Hiro had steeled himself for more yelling, more bullying, but Tadashi just stopped and stared at him like a new-born orphan had been abandoned at his door. All malice in his eyes since Hiro had last seen him had just been replaced with such _worry_ and tenderness.

Hiro felt his heart sink in his chest. He wished his brother would be more consistent. In times such as these, Hiro never quite knew how to feel about him.

“ _God_ , Hiro,” Tadashi exclaimed gently. He put out a hand, which Hiro took, and he pulled his younger brother back onto his feet. He started unlocking the door. “Why didn’t you just call me?”

“I was just going to,” Hiro lied, shrugging. He waited to follow his brother into the house, but Tadashi made him walk through the door first. He flicked on some lights that took a while to warm up. “I wasn’t waiting long.”

Tadashi sharply turned his head towards Hiro as he was locking up again. “Really? Where were you?”

Hiro smiled wryly. “You said to take a _good, long walk_.”

Tadashi sighed and ran one hand down his face. His eyes crinkled in a way that made him seem kind of… _ashamed._ “Look, I’m sorry I lost my temper with you. But you _really_ just…” He shook his head and held out his arms, as if he didn’t even know where to start with him. “You don’t realise how much she’s changed, Hiro.”

“No, I don’t,” Hiro said bluntly. “I don’t think she’s changed at all.”

“That’s because you don’t _see_ her anymore, like _I do_.”

Hiro scoffed. He couldn’t have said it any better himself. He and his brother just didn’t see Aunt Cass in the same way. They had very different interpretations of her. And, for some reason, Tadashi was just not willing to step inside Hiro’s shoes, not even for a second.

“You made her cry, Hiro.”

“She makes _me_ cry,” Hiro retorted. “What… You don’t want me to _apologise,_ do you?”

“It might be the decent human thing to do.” Hiro groaned, gearing up to tell Tadashi just how _ridiculous that sounded_ – apologising to his abuser for only telling her how he _genuinely_ felt about her – but he didn’t let his younger brother have the chance. “Hiro, come on,” he snapped. “You didn’t even _try_ to talk to her.”

“ _Wha…_?” Why was Tadashi trying to make it sound like _he_ was the one who was being uncooperative? He was getting increasingly frustrated with his brother, and it showed. “Wh-What did you expect me to _say?_ She said in her letter that _she_ would do all the talking. She said she was going to apologise and explain why it all happened.” Not that Hiro had been dying to hear it all from her. But it was still a promise that she didn’t deliver on.

Tadashi was getting just as frustrated with his brother too. “She _was_ going to do that! But you just got all impatient in the five minutes you were there, and ran upstairs and ruined it all by throwing all of these baseless accusations at her!”

 _Baseless?_ “Then why is she keeping a _kid_ in the attic?”

“It’s her fiancé’s kid!” Tadashi yelled, and Hiro calmed down enough to listen for just a few seconds. “That’s Yasuo’s kid – Yasuo Tanaka. Aunt Cass takes care of him whenever his dad is doing business abroad. You see? Do you get it now?” He shook his head at Hiro and looked indignant, like he’d just proven some kind of point. “If you had stuck around long enough to even _finish your coffee,_ she would’ve told you that she had extensive therapy, and she met Yasuo shortly after she had finished.”

Hiro needed him to back up just a little bit. He didn’t give a _shit_ about her therapy. “So, Takahiro called me Itoko-san because-“

“Yeah, cousins. Well.” He chuckled, and it seemed so out of place. “You’re not cousins yet. But he already considers me one. And he already considers Aunt Cass his new mom.”

Hiro felt chills rolling down his spine. He pictured Takahiro up in his old bedroom, playing with his old toys, being alone in the house with her on weekday late mornings, when business was slow. This completely unsuspecting, innocent, vulnerable young boy, and this _predator_ watching him…

“I don’t want him to be my cousin,” Hiro uttered, feeling sick and afraid for this boy. “He shouldn’t be in that house alone with her. He shouldn’t be anywhere _near_ her. She shouldn’t be near _anyone_ with a kid. She shouldn’t marry that guy.”

“Hiro…” There was that familiar tone again, the one Hiro _hated._ The disappointment. Like Tadashi was upset at Hiro for not giving monsters second chances, like _he_ did. “For the first time in her life, she says she feels _happy_. Don’t you remember how she used to be? She was always so stressed out, and lonely. She tried to hide it from us, but she wasn’t coping well. She says she feels like she’s part of a real family now. She’s _so_ looking forward to her wedding. She really has changed, so… _Please_ don’t ruin it for her.”

Tadashi was staring at him, bending a little even, just to be on eye level with his younger brother. He was imploring with him with his wide eyes to just… shut up and let it be.

Like hell Hiro was ever going to do that now that a kid was involved.

“Wow, so…” Tadashi could already tell that his younger brother was being mercilessly sarcastic. He was already starting to turn away from him. “ _I_ shouldn’t ruin her life, even though she ruined _mine?_ I should just… forgive and forget? Uh-huh. That sure does seem to be the Hamada family motto these days, doesn’t it? Yeah, she apologised, about four years ago, but – hey, I guess _once was plenty,_ right?”

Hiro felt that his words were undermined by his stomach when it gave an enormous growl. Tadashi looked back at him. “Did you eat in town?” he demanded to know.

Hiro found himself laughing at that. It was so _funny_ that Tadashi could care so much about whether his brother was eating right or not, and yet criticise him for not exchanging pleasantries with his abuser. “It’s not exactly my _physical_ health that’s in peril, bro.”

Once again, those kinds of comments just seemed to fall on deaf ears. “I’ll make us some dinner,” Tadashi murmured, walking past his brother and into their small kitchen. Hiro followed him, already feeling heated and like this argument was _far_ from over. So far, in fact, that he thought it would never end.

Tadashi didn’t even start with dinner first. Before he had even put pots and pans onto the stove, he pulled a beer out from the fridge. Hiro kneeled on the couch that was pushed up against the back of the kitchen counters, watching him crack off the lid and chug back a good portion of it, like he’d needed it several minutes ago. His brother clearly wasn’t drinking to be a better conversationalist.

Hiro just watched his brother zip through the kitchen for a while, doing a million different things at once. He moved like he was in some kind of budget, student-edition cooking competition, racing against the clock. He seemed determined to concentrate on anything but his own brother.

Eventually Hiro started muttering something that Tadashi strained to hear over the growing hiss of the fry pan. “I bet Takahiro’s dad wouldn’t leave his son in her care if he knew about her,” he said darkly. “ _Really_ knew about her. About what she did.” He looked up at Tadashi, waiting for his inflammatory response, but none was forthcoming. Hiro would’ve figured that his older brother just hadn’t heard him, if it weren’t for the fact that he was now glaring as he hastily prepared dinner. “Those accusations were not _baseless,_ Tadashi.”

Tadashi didn’t speak to him, but he couldn’t resist shaking his head. It had only been a slight gesture of disagreement. But it had the same effect on Hiro as if Tadashi had just told him to go fuck himself.

“Because it’s such a _stretch_ ,” Hiro cried, surging with fresh anger, “to assume that someone who _raped_ a boy in her care, would go on to _rape_ _another_ boy in her care.”

Hiro witnessed Tadashi physically wince. “Would you _stop_ throwing that word around so carelessly?”

“What, rape?”

“ _Yes._ ”

Hiro stared at him, uncomprehending. Did he want Hiro to sugar-coat it? “But I _was_ raped.”

“No, you _weren’t,_ Hiro!” Tadashi shouted, slamming down some cutlery he fetched from the drawer. The sound made Hiro jump and his ears ring. “You _need to stop_ putting yourself on the same level as girls and women who are regularly attacked in the street, and threatened with weapons, and _held down._ Women who can end up carrying their _rapist’s child._ ”

Hiro stared at Tadashi, eyes wide and unblinking. His mouth hung open. He’d never heard his older brother voice his feelings on the subject so bluntly before. Had he felt that way all this time…?

Tadashi was already sighing, rubbing his hands over his face, taking bigger swigs, trying to busy himself with dinner again. As if he’d regretted his own words. But Hiro didn’t hear him taking them back.

Hiro was having trouble speaking. He was still waiting for the bulk of the _shock_ to pass and let him move freely again, but it wasn’t letting up. “J-Just because I wasn’t… Th-There’s more than one way to be raped, Dashi. Anyone can be raped, even guys…” Even as Hiro said it – what he _knew to be truth –_ he was having his doubts. It had always just been so _obvious_ that it didn’t even bore being made a point of, but, now that he had to say it aloud, he was starting to wonder if it had always been so obvious.

He had been about to say “even girls and women can be rapists” but then he was confronted by the memories of _many_ comedy shows and films he’d seen, where a man’s sexual discomfort was played for laughs.

He was feeling so unsure of himself right now and it _frightened_ him _._ It _terrified_ him.

“Aunt Cass told me everything that you both did,” Tadashi murmured as he hurriedly stirred the rice and vegetables together, and dowsed it all in soy sauce. “She told me that… you were…” He was having trouble saying it aloud. Hiro didn’t know whether it was the topic or the alcohol that was reddening his cheeks. “A _willing_ participant.”

Hiro couldn’t believe he was having this conversation with his brother now. His cheeks burned brighter than Tadashi’s. He wanted to defend himself – he wanted to tell Tadashi that it wasn’t like that, but he just _couldn’t._ He couldn’t talk about it. He couldn’t even so much as _think_ about it without wanting to throw up.

Still, Tadashi was staring right at him, waiting for his little brother to challenge his assumptions. Hiro had to force himself to try. “It… Just because I… I never… She-”

“She told me,” Tadashi cut in, “that you… _did things_ for her, Hiro… You never mentioned that. When you first told me what was going on back then, you didn’t-”

“No, I _didn’t,_ ” Hiro yelled, tearing up. God, he felt like such a cornered animal right now. His breath was coming out in shudders. “I-I mean, I _did,_ but, you don’t… It _wasn’t my idea, Tadashi._ ” His throat was starting to close up and _ache_ with the effort of suppressing sobs. He was starving and they hadn’t even had dinner yet. His big brother couldn’t have waited until after he’d eaten something to do this to him. “ _She made me do those things for her. She did those things to me._ ”

“How did she make you, Hiro,” Tadashi asked evenly, mixing up the food in the pan. His tone was cold and detached. He didn’t even _seem_ like Hiro’s brother anymore. “Did she ever threaten you? Hold you down? Did you try just… saying no?”

Tadashi made it all sound so straightforward, so uncomplicated, so easy. It would’ve all been so _easy_ if he had been in Hiro’s situation, right?

“ _Fuck you,_ ” Hiro choked out between sobs, and he got up to leave the room. His brother yelled after him, but he might as well have been halfway across the world.

Hiro just couldn’t take it anymore. He couldn’t handle all of these questions and he was in no state to answer them, even if doing so somehow _didn’t_ erode his dignity. He had expected to receive this kind of treatment from police officials. Never in a million years would he have expected it from his own brother. The way Tadashi was just turning all evidence against him – insinuating that Hiro had consented to his Aunt’s sexual advances, that he wasn’t her victim, that he was partially to blame… He just couldn’t deal with it. He’d _never_ be able to deal with it.

It was like the truth was finally coming out, after all this time. While Tadashi had made the right decision four years ago, he had still been burdened by his silent reservations and biases. And now Aunt Cass had him convinced that cutting her off had been an overreaction that needed to be rectified.

He’d never been so upset with his brother before. There was absolutely no way Hiro could go on living with him.

Hiro had hoped that he could at least have a few minutes to himself in his bedroom, but he couldn’t even have that small mercy. Before he’d even made it to his bedroom, his brother had caught him and flipped him around so that they were facing each other. Tadashi was right in his face, he was too close. “Hiro, didn’t you hear me? I made dinner for you. You don’t have to eat with me but, please, _at least_ take your dinner _._ ”

Hiro tried to shove him away, but the gesture was too weak. Tadashi wasn’t leaving. Hiro’s face was hot and sore and dripping with tears, and Tadashi _wasn’t leaving._ “ _You don’t get it,_ ” Hiro cried at him. He felt like there was a gaping hole, right in his chest where his heart should’ve been. “ _You don’t get it, you don’t get it, you don’t… fucking get it!_ You used to _believe me, Dashi –_ you used to think she was worth _turning over to the police,_ and you used to think I was bad enough that I needed _therapy._ What _happened_ to you? You talked to her for too long and now she’s- s-she’s got her hooks in you, and she’s convinced you that all this time I was just _overreacting._ ”

Hiro sucked in a huge breath. He was so shaky that he needed his brother to hold him up. His limbs didn’t feel real – just thin, crumbling, cheap replicas. He felt like a _wreck_ , and he probably looked like a proper one by now too.

His older brother didn’t say a word as he stood with him. Hiro couldn’t quite make out his brother’s expression for his severely blurred vision. He couldn’t even tell what thoughts were crossing Tadashi’s mind. He could imagine, though, that nothing had changed.

Voice hoarse, Hiro continued, “I don’t know _how_ you expected this evening to go, Dashi. Y-You must’ve been out of your _goddamn mind_ if you thought we could all just sit down and have a nice talk together, like a _normal_ family. We’re _not_ a normal family. We haven’t been one since our parents died. Why did you _make me go back there?_ ”

“It was Aunt Cass’ idea,” Tadashi finally murmured, barely audible above Hiro’s sobbing. He sounded a bit choked up himself. “She… really wanted to see you again, you know… She said that if I convinced you to see her, she’d… help me out with my crushing debt a little.”

“You…” Hiro sniffed. “You… sold me out to her? To pay off your _student loan?_ ”

Tadashi raised his shoulders just a tiny bit, like a guilty little shrug. Hiro raised one hand and slapped him across the face. It was a drunken and muted slap, with not nearly enough impact behind it, but it would just have to do for now. Tadashi still accepted it all the same.

“Do me a _huge_ fucking favour, Tadashi,” Hiro said angrily, hardened up some. He wiped at his tears. “Don’t _ever_ talk to me about the abuse again. _Please, just…_ You _really hurt me_ when you do. You _don’t_ understand. You hurt me almost as bad as she does.”

Tadashi actually winced to hear Hiro say that. And as much as Hiro wanted in that moment to tell his brother “don’t ever talk to me about _anything_ ever again”, he refrained. He’d already lost both his parents, and his Aunt. He had no friends or other family. It seemed kind of senseless throwing his brother away too. Hiro thought they could still get along, provided that they talked about _literally anything else._

In a few months or so, maybe.

“Oh yeah.” Hiro had forgotten to mention. “I’m moving out. ASAP.”

“Right,” Tadashi said croakily. He didn’t try to convince him to stay. It was for the best after all. “You’re eighteen now. You can… get your own place if you want...”

Just as Hiro tried to shuffle out from underneath him, Tadashi somehow got it in his head that it was an appropriate moment for a tender embrace. “ _Um,_ ” Hiro said abruptly, pushing his brother back. He looked him straight in the eye and felt _cold_ as he said, “I don’t want to hug you right now.”

He felt strangely smug and satisfied with how devastated Tadashi was. “Shall I bring you dinner?” he asked, desperately.

Although Hiro was _starving_ , accepting a meal from his brother would only be interpreted as a sign of forgiveness. A sign that things were still OK. And, well, Hiro didn’t want his brother to get the wrong idea. “No,” he said, opening up the door to his room. The crueller he was to his brother, the better he felt. “You can just chuck it out. I actually hate your stir-fry.”

And with that, he closed the door for some much needed solitude. Hiro spent half the night scavenging his room for snacks, just as he scavenged the internet for cheap, readily-available accommodation.

The other half of the night he spent crying his heart out.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am on a roll, I have done so much writing today. I am an unstoppable writing machine.
> 
> Once again, thank you for your comments! I thoroughly appreciate hearing all of your thoughts and opinions! :O

Come morning, Hiro was already feeling a lot better about his situation, despite the fact that he must’ve slept all of three hours and he hadn’t managed to find more than enough food in his room to feed a rat. Though, he _had_ found plenty of opened and unopened ‘electron-packed’ energy drinks that had rolled under his bed at some point or other. They had burned in his throat, making his nose sting and his eyes water, but they had kept him up for most of the night as he browsed the web for a new home.

The great thing about flat-hunting, Hiro found out fairly quickly, was that there were always people just as desperate for a new flatmate as there were people desperate for a new place to stay.

There had been one place in particular that had caught Hiro’s eye. It was a thin, earth-toned house – many blocks away from Tadashi but no less further out from the Institute. He had looked upon photos of the room available for rent, and the main areas, and the working facilities. Hiro didn’t have the same discerning eye as experienced tenants did, but he didn’t see any visible mold, so it all seemed just fine to him. It was currently being leased to two ladies and one guy, though Hiro didn’t bother to commit their names to memory just in case it didn’t work out. He had sent one of them an email expressing his interest, explaining that he was a quiet little nerd who liked to keep to himself and kept his quarters (relatively) clean, and that he was prepared to outdo any competition by paying the month’s rent immediately.

He’d sent that email at some ungodly hour of the morning. By the time Hiro had stirred from where he’d awkwardly toppled over his laptop from exhaustion, he’d already received a response so positive and promising that it made Hiro blearily grin to himself. It was just one sentence, but it couldn’t have been more excited if it had had more exclamation marks: _We’re very interested in having you!!!_

Within moments of replying, he received a video call from one of them, though he almost missed it because he hadn’t immediately recognised the name. He answered, nervous, hoping that his bedhead didn’t scare them away, and took a very brief, spontaneous interview with them. Their three heads crowded the screen, and Hiro was a little surprised to see that they were all very good-looking, smiley people. They looked friendly enough. After a few minutes of talking to them, Hiro could picture himself really living with these people.

They hadn’t asked much, except for some basics: did he smoke, did he have a criminal record, was he tidy, was he reliable with money, and could he keep the peace. No, no, yes (a lie), yes, and yes. They had asked him how soon he could move in, and he cast his eyes around the cosy mess of his bedroom, wondering how long it would take to pack everything up and get it shipped across town. One or two days, he said. That’s all he needed.

He ended the video call feeling confident, like he was a sure thing. They had responded well to him. They seemed to like him. They laughed at his stupid attempts at humour, and they were interested to hear about his robotics work. Though, Hiro got the grating feeling that his main appeal came from presenting himself as such a ‘tech-savvy’ guy. Hiro figured that they had come from _other_ institutions, ones that lacked both government funding and prestige, where they probably only used computers to type out essays about pointless drivel.

His other appeal, of course, seemed to be that he had money. Hiro wondered if they were already behind on their rent.

He went online just to check, with some hesitation, how his own finances were looking these days. He was pleasantly surprised to see that he had a _lot_ more money than he’d originally thought he had. But then he took a closer look and his happy, racing thoughts came grinding to a halt.

It wasn’t his money, he realised. It was only ten o’clock, but already Tadashi had dropped _a thousand dollars_ into his bank account. There were no directions on its use or any note of explanation on the statement. It was just… one thousand dollars. From his brother.

Hiro wondered if it was guilt money, or if it had been sent to help him pay bonds and rent and all kinds of other expenses he was in all likelihood unprepared for. But then, it didn’t matter. He didn’t _want_ his brother’s money. Tadashi should’ve just kept it all for himself, Hiro thought bitterly, if he had needed it so badly that it was worth selling his own brother out for.

Hiro got as far as the confirm button to send it straight back to Tadashi, but he wavered. As soon as he hit that button, he’d be back to a measly two hundred or so dollars. If that amount alone was enough to even get Hiro through the first _week_ of proving himself to be an independent adult, then… why would his brother have sent it?

Hating himself, and hating his brother, he cancelled the request to send the money back. He’d give it all back once he had a steady income and he didn’t need it anymore. Or maybe he’d just keep it, and spend every last cent on stupid things Tadashi would never approve of.

Hiro stared out the window. It was a Monday. His brother wouldn’t be home until later that night. Hiro planned to have most of his room packed and cleaned by then.

Last night had left Hiro so shaken and despairing. But things were really looking up all of a sudden.

\-------

The flat got back to him several hours later, to confirm that they wanted Hiro to move in as soon as he could, and it made him feel so _euphoric._ He was a proper _adult,_ doing _proper adult things._ He’d organised his own accommodation and moving van and _cleaned his room_ , and he’d done it all without the help of his stupid brother.

Hiro thought it only fair that he gave Tadashi at least some warning before he came home tomorrow to find his younger brother’s room empty. Late that night, after he was sure Tadashi had stopped pacing around the halls, just waiting to catch him unawares, Hiro snuck out to the kitchen to leave a note. He didn’t want to make a big deal out of it and have an emotional goodbye, so all he wrote, as he jammed some food in his mouth, was that he had found a new place to stay and he was moving in tomorrow. He wrote, as an afterthought, not to bother trying to contact him for a while. He didn’t mention the thousand dollars.

After it was done, Hiro pinned it to the fridge with a little robot magnet. The robot looked far too cute to be on an icy note like that, so he switched it with a plain black one instead. Much better. He crammed some more of his food into his arms, shut the door, and when he turned to leave, Tadashi was standing in the doorway.

Hiro felt himself go still. Tadashi was blocking the only exit. He looked kind of menacing, standing in the shadows like that, but he also looked… heartbroken. When he opened his mouth to speak, his voice sounded raspy, like he’d been crying. “So you’re leaving then?”

Hiro felt sorry for his brother, but he still had no desire to talk to him. He was still angry with him. “I explain it all in the note,” he said, pointing to it.

A forlorn smile broke across Tadashi’s face. “Do you?” he asked. “Did you leave an address?”

His brother was funny. “No.”

Tadashi sighed. “Well… I hope it’s a nice place.”

“Me too.”

A long silence elapsed between them. Hiro was getting agitated, twitchy. He wanted to just yell at his brother to move out of the _goddamn way_ , but he didn’t want to make Tadashi look anymore pathetic than he already did.

“I’m sorry, Hiro,” Tadashi eventually murmured, and Hiro had to turn away from him because he thought he was going to start crying too. He took deep breaths. “I’m sorry that I hurt you… I just want you to know that I _love you,_ and, if you ever need anything, then please just call me and I’ll be right there.”

Hiro wasn’t doing this. Not here and not now. Not ever. He kept his head low as he marched across the room and barged past him, not caring if he jabbed him too hard in the chest with his elbow. He slammed his bedroom door shut on his brother’s miserable, guilt-tripping face. He didn’t buy his brother’s apology – not for one _second_.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (More chapters, more more more. I cannot be stopped.)
> 
> Time to meet Takahiro...
> 
> As always, I appreciate the comments! <3

Moving into his new flat the next morning had been a breeze. Some people said that they found that kind of thing quite stressful, but Hiro had actually found it to be quite… liberating. People were so nice and understanding and _helpful_. No one gave him any trouble. Everything turned out great.

He finally got to meet his new flatmates in the flesh. He smiled and walked over to the three strangers to shake their hands, forcing himself to be friendly, and their very first comment to him was a rather blunt observation on how young he was. That had thrown Hiro off his guard. He had noticed almost immediately in their video chat that they were all at least three or four years older than him. Hiro hadn’t imagined that there would be a problem; he’d spent his entire life being the youngest one in the room after all. He _had_ considered finding a flat with people his own age, but once he realised that most eighteen year-olds were about to become _first-year college students,_ he had been put off the idea entirely. He was well past that kind of hype. He had wanted to hang with a more mature crowd.

Hiro started to worry that they weren’t so OK with the age difference. He’d mentioned that he was a 400-level student at San Fransokyo’s Institute of Technology, but he looked far from it – standing kind of short, and wearing an old hoodie and jeans. Perhaps he should’ve dressed himself up a bit, he thought. The only difference between his thirteen year old self’s clothes and his clothes now was that his pants had gained a quarter in length.

“Ummm,” he said quietly, “So long as I pay rent, it doesn’t matter how old I am… Right?”

The three of them started laughing. They hit him on the back and told him that they had only been teasing.

They each introduced themselves and Hiro desperately listened, trying to learn their names – Lizzie, Carla, and Nick – and match them to their faces. They graciously helped him get all his stuff up the stairs and into his new room, which he stopped to smile approvingly at it. It was just as clean and spacious as it had been presented in the photos. Once all of his things were in and he’d thanked them, he assumed that they’d leave him alone to unpack and get settled; instead they roped their arms around him and gave him an amusing tour of the place. It ended in the living room, where the television blared, and the coffee table was spread with finger-food and drinks.

Hiro was so taken aback by their prosocial behaviour that he actually found it difficult to talk to them at first. They were being nice, but in an aggressive kind of way that Hiro wasn’t really used to. He sat between them, stiff, giving one-word answers, taking one chip to his mouth at a time. It wasn’t until he’d been handed something alcoholic – after they had double-checked, laughingly, that he wasn’t underage – that he started to loosen up and lean back and show a little of his cocky personality.

At least Tadashi had been right about one thing recently; alcohol really was a good social lubricant.

\-------

Before Hiro had even set up his _own_ computers, his flatmates were already hounding him with their computer problems. Most of them could be solved within two minutes, or with a basic web search or video tutorial, but there were just _so many._ Other problems required a bit more studying up on and advanced tinkering, but Hiro was determined to show off his skills and save his poor flatmates six hundred dollars in labour and part replacement costs. He’d fix the problem himself, he declared, with his very own soldering iron, and he’d take… a free dinner or something as payment.

His flatmates had fretted at first – when he starting taking apart their hardware – that he was going a little overboard, to which Hiro replied, “don’t you mean, going a little _mother_ board… _eh?_ ” But he assured them, in all seriousness, that he loved the challenge. It also really gave Hiro a way to just pass the time, which he needed.

It occurred to Hiro, shortly after he’d moved in, that he required a job. And, since he was apparently so good at fixing people’s computer problems, he ended up applying for a tech-support job at an office down the street. The interview had gone well; he’d made an impression. He was fairly sure that he would get the job, and be bored as hell, and have to constantly remind himself to keep calm as he dealt with technophobes and other computer-illiterate nut-jobs. But, until he heard back from the company, Hiro just had to wait and live off his own finances for a while.

Hiro didn’t want to say that he was grateful for Tadashi’s money. He still would’ve survived without it.

Somehow.

\-------

Hiro spent a lot of his time in his new room. No one ever suspected just how anti-social he was because the other flatmates usually worked during the day, and he could claim to be too exhausted to do anything with them later. But, after about a week or so, he had started to get bored and restless. There were a lot of small things that painfully reminded him of his brother. And, although he’d missed about five calls from him now, he still wasn’t feeling up to talking to him yet. That was the one challenge he’d have to pass on.

He had started to think about Takahiro a lot. That poor, helpless kid. He remembered how _eager_ the boy had been to see Hiro again, and he couldn’t help but wonder… _why?_ They barely knew each other. The only time they’d ever interacted was to exchange mail, and the only other time Takahiro had ever seen him was when he was in the middle of verbally assaulting his new mom. Yet, somehow, the kid had run all the way down the street to him, just to say that he wanted to see Hiro again.

Hiro’s stomach clenched. Maybe Takahiro wanted more people around him the same way Hiro had once wanted Tadashi around him. Takahiro didn’t have any older siblings to look out for him. He didn’t have his dad at the moment, or any of his friends…

He had no one. He was completely alone with her.

Hiro didn’t waste any more time thinking about it; he just sprang into action, grabbing a hoodie and shoes and heading out the door. He’d been moving so fast to catch the next tram that he had almost forgotten to lock up the house. Yeah – that would’ve gone down _really_ well with his new flatmates, when they got back to their ransacked rooms. He went back to lock up, and then he was running down the street.

He wished that Takahiro had a number or email or _something_ , just so that Hiro could contact him in advance and meet him _outside_ the café. So that he didn’t have to face Aunt Cass. He could already see her there in the café, moving from table to table, taking orders and delivering coffees and selling pastries, all at the same time. She looked busy and distracted. Maybe he could just… slip by her, and make his way upstairs, and she needn’t know he was even there…

He waited, crouched behind a plant out front, until he noticed her taking the order of a family of four, who were sitting in the far corner. She had her back to him, her eyes on her notepad.

Now was his chance. Hiro crept inside the café and made a hurried but discreet dash across the room and up the stairs. He didn’t look back to check if he had been noticed or not; he just kept climbing until he was at the attic.

He took a breather for a minute. Trying to slip past Aunt Cass had been… unexpectedly stressful. His heart thumped in his ears and he felt dizzy. _God_. What was he doing here?

He quietly knocked on the door, hoping and yet _not_ hoping that Takahiro was still _there_ and not back at his father’s place, safe and sound. Hiro hadn’t even thought about how the hell he was going to get _out_ of the café unnoticed, or what he would do if he was caught… He waited, silent and worried about what this kid was doing to him, and he jumped when Takahiro threw open the door.

Hiro had never seen a kid so happy to look upon his face before. It was a surprisingly warm feeling.

“ _Hiro-saaan!_ ” Takahiro threw his arms up and ran forward, coiling them around Hiro’s waist. He… had a rather tight grip. He looked eight years old, but he acted and sounded a lot younger than that. He had the opposite problem to Hiro.

“He-eeey, Takahiro… san,” Hiro greeted, shaky and awkward. He patted the top of Takahiro’s head like he had no idea what he was doing.

“Taka-chan! Taka-chan!” he shouted excitedly, and Hiro must’ve still been afraid of being caught because he couldn’t help shushing him a little. The kid said, in a loud whisper, “Call me Taka-chan. It’s cute, right?”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s… cute. Um.” He looked over Takahiro and into his old bedroom. It was dark in there. “Can I… come in?”

Takahiro gave an enthusiastic nod and ran back inside, with Hiro following suit. He closed the door behind him, and he noticed that there were scratches just underneath the handle, like something had been jammed underneath it, to keep someone _out_. Hiro felt a pang of dread for a second before he realised that _he_ had probably done that, four years ago.

“Hiro,” Takahiro called him over to his bed – Hiro’s old bed. With Hiro’s old sheets. The boy held up some of Hiro’s old figurines that he used to collect, and some of them looked as though they’d been a bit mangled, with bits missing and others twisted. “I can take these apart and put them back together, right? Can you help me?”

Hiro looked them over, concerned. “Uh, these are more for display only…” He sighed. What the hell did he care? He’d relinquished ownership of these toys long ago when he’d moved out. If a kid wanted to ruin them for his own entertainment then he could knock himself out. “Here,” Hiro said, smiling, taking a seat next to this small, mesmerised child, “I’ll show you a neat trick…”

They played for about an hour or so in that room. Hiro soon found that the kid moved almost skittishly; he didn’t like to dwell on one thing for too long. As soon as he mastered a toy or a game or a trick, some other thing would catch and hold his attention for a while. It was a pretty remarkable experience for Hiro – following this kid around a room full of dusty junk, igniting his interest, patiently helping him to understand all of these things he used to cherish... He’d never been a kid’s best friend before. He’d always been the kid. It was a refreshing change and it just made him feel so warm inside.

But then Hiro was overcome with a cold guilt as he realised… this was probably how it must’ve felt for Tadashi. When he played with his little brother.

“Hiro-san?”

Hiro snapped out of his thoughts. “Hmm?”

The boy titled his head at him. He seemed to have lost some of his energy. “Your eyes are shiny,” he commented.

“Are they.” Hiro wiped at them. He tried to remember why it was that he had even come in the first place. He started gently, “Taka-chan…” but he didn’t get much further beyond that. He had no idea where to even begin. How to be tactful. He went through a number of potential questions in his head, as Takahiro watched him unblinking like a hawk, until he felt compelled to just spit out _something._ “…Taka-chan, are you OK?”

It was a weird and vague question, Hiro knew. Takahiro didn’t know how to respond to it. “What?”

“Uh-um…” Hiro scratched at his head. He was feeling flustered. He needed to… go back home and think things through and work out what he actually wanted to ask. But, before he did that: “Do you have your own phone? Or an email address? Do you use email?” Takahiro shook his head no. “Do you have your own computer?” Takahiro nodded yes. “Internet?” Another nod. “Right. Good.”

Takahiro let him onto his computer – which was really just one of Hiro’s old computers anyway – and Hiro quickly set him up with an email address. He wrote it down on a bit of paper, along with a password, and presented it to the boy. “This is your email now,” he explained, slow and clear and simple. “You can send messages on the computer with it. I’m going to email you tonight, and then you’ll have my address, and you can email me back. You can email me whenever you like. About anything.” Hiro wondered if he’d regret saying that when he ended up with fifteen emails in a row of ‘hi’ or something equally obnoxious. But he hoped not. He pointed at the random password he’d given him. “You should change that, and don’t tell anyone what the new one is. Got it?”

Takahiro looked up, beaming. “I can email you,” he said, but it was more of an exclamation than anything else.

“…Yep,” Hiro said, nodding. “Email me. Email me whenever you’re in trouble.”

The room went silent. He’d just sort of… said it, without thinking. But Takahiro didn’t seem to understand. “Like when I’m naughty?”

“No, like… When someone is mean to you. Or makes you feel bad.”

Takahiro stared up at him, innocent and doe-eyed. “Why would anyone do that?”

Hiro shrugged weakly. “I… I don’t know. Just, if anyone does something you don’t like, then… tell me about it. OK?”

But Takahiro didn’t say OK. He just got bored and changed the subject, his enthusiasm picking up again. “Are you staying for dinner, Hiro-san? Okaa-san and I are making pizza!”

Hiro ran a hand down his face, sighing. He felt so tired all of a sudden. “No, she doesn’t even know I’m here,” he murmured. Which reminded him: “Don’t tell Cass… Okaa-san, that I was here, OK?”

“Why?”

 _Fuck._ Hiro kneeled in front of him. “Because…” _It’s complicated._ “Because… She might get really mad. And not let us hang out together.”

Takahiro gazed at him for a while, eyes narrowed like he was trying to puzzle something out. “She wouldn’t let us hang out together now? Why?”

Hiro’s head was starting to hurt. This kid was _exhausting._ He checked his phone and saw that he’d been talking to Takahiro now for over two hours. It had just gone one-fifty. If he didn’t leave soon then Aunt Cass would easily spot him amongst the late-lunch crowd.

“Are you going now?” Takahiro asked.

“Yeah. I am.” Hiro smiled. “I’ll… see you later, Taka-chan. I had fun.”

“I’ll email you!” Takahiro cried, just as Hiro closed the door behind him. _Great,_ he thought, pausing with his hand still on the doorknob. He closed his eyes and just breathed for a second. _Please email me. Please._

He didn’t bother trying to time when Aunt Cass had her back to him as he left. He just put up his hood and hoped that she couldn’t see him, just as he couldn’t see her.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you for the comments! (also please let me know if there is actually any distressing content here that I should label a bit better - I am unsure myself)

It didn’t take Hiro very long to work out that he was now residing with _very_ socially outgoing people. At least two of them were out every weekend – sometimes for the _entire_ weekend. And, while Hiro had no desire to join them in their drunken escapades downtown, he was a little intrigued when they mentioned to him in passing that they might throw a small party sometime the following week. They joked that, since Hiro lived there, it would be impossible to keep him away so he may as well be invited.

Hiro was kind of curious. He’d never been to a _real_ party before, where the host didn’t know who half the people showing up were, and the place stunk of booze, and most guests didn’t get tired and go home before eleven o’clock. He kind of wanted to check it out.

Maybe, he thought, it would be a good opportunity to socialise and make more friends. He didn’t go out all that much; he needed to socialise a bit more than he did.

And he needed more friends.

\-------

Hiro used to be fairly good at getting up in the morning. While he was still attending classes, he was able to force himself out of bed and out the door to be present for his morning lectures and labs. But, lately, he’d lost all and any semblance of a habitual sleep pattern. Sometimes he woke up at five in the morning, sometimes he woke up in the afternoon. Sometimes he slept for three hours, sometimes he slept for ten. And, while his appetite hadn’t necessarily changed at all, his lack of a basic routine was starting to mess with that too. And his bathing. And his chores. And just about everything else.

There were only two things in his life now which he felt were still constant. The first was listening to the occasional pleading voice mail messages his brother had left on his phone. He listened to those messages twice, maybe three times – just so he could hear Tadashi’s voice again.

The second was checking immediately after waking up if there were any new messages from Takahiro.

Hiro couldn’t quite remember how long ago now he’d given Takahiro that email account. It could’ve been a couple of days ago, or it could’ve been over a week. All he knew was that, whatever the date, it had been more than enough time for Takahiro to send _well over a hundred emails._

And they weren’t even interesting emails. The majority of them were shared from social media sites, or sites specifically geared towards child infotainment, or stupid videos, or inane flash games. Almost all of them started with “Taka-chan has invited YOU…”

It had been cute… at first. But now it was just getting tedious. Hiro had said something along the lines of “send me anything, at any time”, and he _knew_ – he just _knew_ at the time thathe was going to regret those words.

As Hiro watched _yet another_ new email pop up right before his eyes, Hiro felt irrationally mad. He seriously considered opening up a new message to tell Takahiro to _knock it off_ , and delete every email he’d ever received from him thus far. But he knew that there were better ways of handling the sudden influx of _junk_ cluttering his inbox. If Hiro felt enthused, he could just write himself a bit code that would filter the personal emails from the linked ones, extracting text and blocking links.

It was fine, he told himself, calming down. Takahiro was just a _kid._ He was bored and lonely, like Hiro, and he was discovering a whole new world of online stimulation and interaction. Hiro wasn’t going to risk preventing the boy from being able to contact him, just because he was abusing the system a little and Hiro was getting annoyed. Takahiro had never had an email account before. He should’ve been allowed to have some fun with it.

Hiro found himself actually, _miraculously,_ writing out a piece of code for his email. Once it had been perfected and implemented, Hiro realised that Takahiro hardly ever sent him any email that didn’t try to take him to some other website.

Hiro thought he might give Takahiro a gentle reminder as to what email was actually used _for_. He sent a quick message titled, _you sure like the internet, huh._

Takahiro replied instantaneously. Hiro liked that about him.

What he _didn’t_ like was the content of Takahiro’s next message: _hey…… Hiro-san…… can you keep a secret….._

Hiro had barely had any sleep, barely had anything to eat – he didn’t have the energy to go into panic mode. But he still did. He replied, fingers moving so fast across the keyboard that he made mistakes, _I cna, you can tel; me._

Takahiro didn’t reply immediately, as he did every other time, and the stressmade Hiro woozy. “Come on,” he pleaded to his computer. “Come on, come on…”

When he finally got his reply, a few minutes later, Hiro wanted to kick his computer: ….. _I hate cake!!!_

Hiro sat there, with his face in his hands, not knowing what to say. He supposed this was _good_ news – that Takahiro didn’t have any alarming disclosures for him. At least not at this time.

Hiro started to visualise _cake,_ and feel nauseous, and he responded much more leisurely: _I hate cake too_.

 _We’re the same!!!_ Takahiro replied. _You and me are the same!!!_

And that got Hiro thinking. _Do you hate the cakes at the café?_

_Yes!! I hate the cakes Okaa-san makes me…._

Hiro swallowed. This was going… well? _Does she make you a lot of cakes?_

_Yeah…… I think she’s a witch!! I read a book once and a witch made a boy eat lots and lots cakes! She looked sweet and nice but…… she wanted to eat him!!!!1 :O_

Hiro’s fingers trembled as they ghosted over his keyboard. That made it harder to write out what was already a hard enough question to ask. _If she’s a witch then does that mean she wants to eat you?_

_She tells me that she will eat me sometimes!!!_

Hiro didn’t know what was happening here anymore. Was he… actually gaining a real confession by speaking in euphemisms, or was Takahiro… just being a kid?

He needed to know.

 _Taka-chan,_ he replied, _Can you meet me across the road from the café in exactly one hour?_

_Can you buy me some churros??_

Hiro faltered. _Yeah sure,_ he agreed, _I’ll buy you anything you want. Just meet me across the road from the café in an hour, OK? Look harder if you don’t see me straightaway – I might be hiding._

_Why??_

Hiro sighed. He checked the time. He had to get a move on if he wanted to make it on time and still look at least a little less disgusting than he did right now. He quickly wrapped up their conversation: _I’ll tell you later. I’ll see you soon._

\-------

When Hiro jumped off the tram, only a few minutes late, he quickly spotted Takahiro wandering around in the street. He was looking behind trash bins and trees, and down slim, stinking alleyways. Although pedestrians stared at him as they passed, he had a small smile on his face – like he was having fun, like he was quietly playing a game.

Hiro felt a tug on his heartstrings when he realised Takahiro was looking for _him._

He approached Takahiro, smiling and waving when he caught his eye, and the kid just ran for him like he was Santa Claus. He was just as much a bundle of energy as he was during their last encounter. “Hi Taka-chan,” Hiro murmured, letting the boy do his classic, waist-strangling hug. He ran a hand through Takahiro’s hair, because it felt natural, because that’s what Tadashi used to do to him when he was a kid. “Were you waiting long?”

Takahiro grinned up at him. “You are so good at hiding! Where?”

“Ummm.” Hiro laughed; he hadn’t done that in a while. “On the tram?”

Takahiro’s eyes went big like he never would’ve suspected. Like he had just developed some kind of awe-stuck respect for him. “You must be so good at hide and seek! We should play!”

“Maybe later,” Hiro said, patting his shoulder. Takahiro’s face screwed up like he might’ve been about to protest, so Hiro quickly distracted him: “Didn’t you say you wanted churros?”

It had worked. “Yeah!” Takahiro cried, jumping up and down. People were still staring, but Hiro cared about as much as Takahiro did. “ _Churros! Churros!_ ”

After he’d bought them both some hot, crispy churros, smothered in chocolate, Hiro suggested they sit down and talk, but Takahiro didn’t want to sit still. He was dead set on walking around the city and looking in shops and malls and museums, and just about every other place that took his fancy. He pulled on Hiro’s arm until it hurt, dragging him this way and that way all afternoon. After a while, Hiro had stopped pointing out places of interest and just let Takahiro lead the way, because clearly the kid could spot anything remotely funa million miles away.

Hiro wondered about him though. Even without the churros (and other sugar-loaded treats he probably shouldn’t have bought for him), Takahiro seemed to have a lot of energy to burn off. With his dad gone and Cass always working, he probably wasn’t allowed out much. He raised his eyes to the sky and squinted like he hadn’t seen the sun in a long time. He bounded down the street like he’d never seen a piece of land that long stretch out in front of him before. He was like an animal out of his cage for the first time.

After a few hours of criss-crossing through the city, Hiro’s feet began to ache. “Taka-chan,” he groaned, just as the kid took off like a rocket yet again. He waited until Takahiro noticed he wasn’t being followed before pointing to a little green park. Thankfully there was a vendor selling ice cream there, so Takahiro came right over.

As they sat down on a park bench with two cones, Hiro admitted, “You’ve worn me out, Taka-chan.”

“No,” Takahiro said, like Hiro was wrong. “You were already tired when you came here.”

Hiro smiled a little. “Yeah, I… probably was. But _you_ didn’t help.”

“You can’t be tired next time,” Takahiro insisted, turning away from the view to face him. He had a bit of vanilla on his chin and Hiro wiped it off for him. “You can’t get tired next time or it gets boring, OK?”

“ _Next_ time?” Hiro sighed, but he was smiling. “There’s gonna be a _next time?_ ”

“Friends spend time together!” Hiro stared at his melting ice cream and felt like it was a good representation of his heart right about now. _Friends._ “I don’t wanna be at Okaa-san’s place all the time, and you don’t either, so we should go out! We should see a movie!”

It was quiet for a moment. Takahiro had already finished his ice cream, and just thinking about all the questions Hiro wanted to ask put him off the rest of his. He passed it over to Takahiro, who responded to it with gusto, like it was a brand new one.

“Taka-chan,” Hiro started. His voice was low in case bystanders happened to overhear them. “Do you like Cass?”

“Sheeee’s great!”

“But you said she was a witch.”

Takahiro stopped licking and stared at him. It was that same blank, curious stare Hiro had seen before. When he didn’t understand. “She’s really a witch…?”

“No, no, Taka-chan, she’s… She’s just a bad person. Witches aren’t real. But bad people are.”

“Why is she bad?”

“Because…” Hiro just wanted a quick and easy and painless way of telling Takahiro everything that had happened. But there wasn’t one. Not if he wanted Takahiro to understand. “Because, when I was still living there, in your room, I… She… She was…” Hiro leaned over his knees and groaned tiredly. He didn’t even know how to _start._ He didn’t want to talk about it, and he was beginning to think that he physically _couldn’t._ Maybe another time. “She did some very bad things to me,” he sighed, hating himself for not being brave. “And she brought me a lot of cake, and I got fat, and she-“

“She tried to _eat_ you!” Takahiro cried, and Hiro shushed him too sharply in his fear, but Takahiro remained unaffected. “So she _is_ a witch!”

“Fine, she’s a witch,” Hiro conceded. It was just easier that way. “And you don’t want a witch for an Okaa-san, do you? Your dad shouldn’t marry her.”

“But if she’s not gonna be my Okaa-san then… you won’t be my Itoko-san…”

It was hard to look into that suddenly downhearted face and not feel it take over his own. “We’ll still be friends,” Hiro offered kindly. “You can still email me.”

Takahiro bowed his head just a little. His voice was small, like he was. “I’ve never had a mom before… But… I don’t want a witch for a mom either…”

Hiro put an arm around him and touched his head comfortingly. He felt like he’d fucked up, and he should try to fix that, but he had no idea how. “Just… Just remember,” Hiro murmured, “that… even if your dad _does_ marry Cass, I’ll always be around. I won’t let her hurt you, like she hurt me. Whatever you tell me about her… I’ll believe you. Even if _no_ one else does, or if you think _no_ one else _ever_ will – _I’ll_ believe you.”

Hiro felt like he was going to cry. How he’d longed for someone to just sit him down and hold him and say all of this to him…

Takahiro remained silent until he’d finished his cone. Then he jumped out from under Hiro’s arm and started running into the small park before them. “Let’s play hide and seek now!” he cried.

Could this kid have picked a less opportune time. “I’m not in the mood, Taka-chan,” his voice cracked, but Takahiro couldn’t hear him. He was already well out of earshot.

“No peeking! Count to a hundred!” Takahiro yelled out to him, and then he was out of sight.

Hiro didn’t want to do this. He didn’t want to have to go and _fetch_ him like this, but Takahiro wasn’t giving him any choice. Hiro stood up and wandered over in his general direction, he presumed, and started calling out for him. “We’re not playing a game, Taka-chan. Come out… We’ll play later, OK? Just not now. So come out… I’m _serious_. I am _not looking for you._ ”

This carried on for what felt like ten minutes. Hiro stood in the absolute dead centre of the park and just turned slowly in a tight circle, searching for any sign of him. A giggle because he was close by. A rustling from behind a bush. A head poking itself out from behind a lamp-post. _Something._ But there was nothing. Hiro found himself suddenly _hating_ this kid.

He said he wouldn’t look for Takahiro but of _course_ he did; he searched the place from corner to corner. He looked behind trash bins, up trees, under benches, in flower beds, behind sculptures, _under rocks._ By the time he’d finished, with still no sign of him, the air had gotten colder. The sky was looking more orange than blue now.

And Hiro was starting to _freak out_.

“Come _on,_ Taka-chan,” he yelled, to no particular section of the park. He had _hoped_ that Takahiro wouldn’t be so _stupid_ as to take their little “game” _out of the park_. But now that hope was dead and gone. “Taka-chan! _Takahiro! Come OUT!_ ”

He was shaking, he was panting, he was tearing up. He’d looked everywhere – _everywhere._ He was _so fucking stupid._ What had he been thinking? Why hadn’t he run after Takahiro _immediately_? Why couldn’t he have prevented this? If anything had happened to that boy – if he’d gotten crushed by a car, or broken his neck from a fall, or someone had kidnapped him, then…

Hiro had never felt so many nervous eyes on him before and yet _no one_ was helping. He started approaching couples and families and dog-owners, asking them with desperation clear in unclear voice, “h-have you seen a little boy around here? He looks like me but he’s eight, h-he’s wearing a yellow shirt and grey shorts…”

And then, finally, _something_. A lady remarked that she’d seen a young boy that fit the description Hiro had just given her; about half an hour ago a boy had almost tripped her up as she was just stepping off the tram.

She went on to explain further, but Hiro quickly thanked her and made a run for the stops; he’d heard more than enough. Of _course,_ he _screamed_ at himself, of _course_ Takahiro was on a _goddamn_ _tram_. He’d looked at Hiro like it was the best place in the _world_ when Hiro had told him that he’d been “hiding” on a tram earlier.

But trams came quick on weekday evenings, from every direction. There could’ve easily been a _hundred_ trams running in the area alone. Takahiro could’ve ended up _anywhere_ in the city _._

Hiro felt like he was breaking down. He couldn’t do this on his own anymore. It was too hard – there was too much at stake now. He had to – for the sake of Takahiro’s safety – tell someone what had happened. Even if it meant talking to _her_ again, he had to…

He was sitting on a crowded tram to the Lucky Cat café, petrified, wondering how on earth he was going to tell Cass, when he received an email on his phone. From Takahiro.

All it said was: _you were too slow!!! I win!!!_

Hiro just about collapsed.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Hiro... :(
> 
> As always, thanks for the comments! If anyone has any questions then I'll try to answer them haha..

When Hiro got home, he didn’t even stop to politely decline his flatmates’ offer to join them in the living room for pizza and movies. He just stormed past them and up the stairs, slammed the door to his room, kicked off his shoes, and sat himself down at his computer. He shook it back to life impatiently and then he opened up Takahiro’s latest message to him.

 _Why did you do that,_ Hiro wrote furiously, fingers flying over the keyboard, _Why did you run away from me – I was so WORRIED about you! I was looking for you for almost an hour! Don’t you know that something really horrible could’ve happened to you and no one would have had ANY idea where you were?? Why should I take you out again – why should there be a “next time” when you think it’s a great idea to just jump on a tram WITHOUT TELLING ME!?_

Hiro pushed himself away from the keyboard for a second – read the email back to himself. He sounded so _angry._ He sounded like a hysterical, protective big brother. He sounded like his _own_ brother. It wasn’t at all flattering.

He scraped the message and was about to start over, much more calmly, when he noticed a new message from Takahiro. It read: _I got into trouble :( you said to tell you when I was in trouble……._

Hiro forced himself to cool down before he sent a reply. _What happened?_

He figured Takahiro’s response was long because it had ended up taking a good couple of minutes to arrive. _Okaa-san said I was bad to have gone out. She said she had been looking for me everywhere…… she said she was about to call the police when I came back…… she said she’s gonna call my dad :( he’ll be mad at me……_

Hiro wrote back: _You didn’t tell her that you were going out?_

_She wouldn’t let me :( but you said to meet you so I went anyway_

“Fuck,” Hiro exclaimed softly to the room. That was… dangerous. He was tense as all hell as he carefully typed out: _Did you tell her about me?_

 _No._ Hiro only had to read that first word to feel at ease again. _Because she’s an evil witch! In my books witches are killed by burning!!!!_

…Well, feeling at ease was a short-lived experience, and nice for all of the _two seconds_ that it lasted. _Taka-chan, no – don’t say that kind of thing. She’s not really a witch. I’m sorry if I confused you._

_But she hurt you!! She did bad things to you!!_

Hiro sighed. It was… sweet? That this little boy wanted to cause grievous bodily harm, if not flat out _kill_ the woman who had abused him. But Hiro’s experiences hadn’t rendered him a _psychopath._ He was better than that, and he had to set an example. _Just because she hurt me,_ he wrote, _that doesn’t mean that she deserves to be hurt…_

That said… if Hiro had ever found out that she wasabusing Takahiro, he _would’ve_ hurt her, in any and _all_ ways that he could. It was so easy by comparison – to just turn away and say that confronting her didn’t matter, or that turning her over to the police wasn’t worth the effort, when it was only him being harmed. But, somehow, when he imagined Takahiro going through the _exact_ same experiences as he had, he felt like he’d do _everything_ in his power to help him achieve retribution. To help him feel safe again.

It would’ve been so much easier on him to just walk away from all of this. To not get involved. For Hiro to just say to himself, _fuck_ Takahiro. Better him than me. I won’t so much as set one _foot_ inside her house, even if he’s stuck in there with her, alone and scared, because what if that puts _me_ in danger.

…But Hiro couldn’t do that. He couldn’t just turn his back on this child – this child who looked _so much like him,_ who was essentially just a younger, purer version of himself. What Hiro had been put through was _awful,_ and he wouldn’t have wished it upon anybody. He couldn’t just _abandon_ Takahiro – especially when he was the _only_ person who could help him. Who could understand him.

Hiro was going to save that kid. He was going to _save him._ He thought it bore repeating again: _I’m here for you, Taka-chan. If she ever tried to hurt you, I would rescue you. If you told me right now that she’d done anything bad to you, anything that made you feel weird, I would go over there RIGHT NOW and take you far away from her. I’d keep you safe._

 _You don’t have to be shy or scared to tell me,_ he kept writing. He couldn’t seem to _stop_ writing. _You don’t have to lie to make other people feel better about themselves. You don’t have to be miserable just to keep others happy. All you have to do is tell me what horrible things she does to you, and then everyone will know that she’s a monster._

Hiro sent the message before he could stop and think and revise it. He waited for a response, _desperate,_ right up on the edge of his seat. He _needed_ Takahiro to tell him something. He _pleaded._ He _needed…_

He finally got a new email from him several minutes later. But it wasn’t a confession. It wasn’t _anything_. It was… just a stupid picture of a dragon breathing fire into the night sky.

Hiro sat back and narrowed his eyes at the screen. Takahiro always reacted this way whenever he tried to talk about it – this very serious, very delicate issue. He always changed the subject, or he suddenly wanted to do something else, or he had to leave…

Hiro had no idea how to interpret that. He didn’t know if Takahiro was choosing not to talk about the abuse – despite being presented with _many_ opportunities and reassurances to do so – or if Cass was just biding her time, waiting for her chance…

Because there was _no_ _fucking way_ she had changed.

\-------

 _Finally_ Hiro received a letter in the mail confirming that he got the tech support job he applied for. But that wasn’t all that he received; the envelope was _thick_ with forms and codes of conducts and other applications that made him _groan_ just to look at _._ He ended up spending the entire evening reading everything, filling out and signing forms – all done with the kind supervision of his flatmates, who were quite practiced at being employed – and then he handed them all in to the office in person the next morning. He had hoped that it would help speed up the process a little so that he could get some money – some _legal_ money – soon, but he was still told that it would be at least another week before they got back to him.

Hiro was afraid that by the time they’d be ready for him to come to the office, he wouldn’t _want_ the damn job anymore.

Sitting in his room, without anything to do, Hiro turned to his new friend. His only friend.

 _Hey,_ he started an email to Takahiro, _Want to meet up with me today? I’ll buy you lunch. I’ll take you to see a movie, if you like. I don’t care which one._

He hit send and sat back in his squeaky chair, sighing. He just waited for a minute or two. He had thought Takahiro would respond to him immediately, like he nearly always did, but he didn’t today. Maybe, he mused, he was too caught up in his online games to see that he’d been contacted.

But then an hour had passed, and there had still been no word from him. Hiro had even sent another message – less casual and more urgent.

He’d started to wonder if something was wrong.

 _Taka-chan?_ He wrote to him a third time. _Is everything OK over there?_

A few minutes later, a new message popped up in his inbox and Hiro opened it frantically. All it read was: _Come over! Come over now! NOW!!!_

Hiro’s heart thumped loud and hard in his chest. He had no idea whether he was supposed to read that in Takahiro’s too-excited voice, or… or…

He didn’t have time to think about it. He forced himself to move and literally run out of the house, as he so often did now. At least he was getting better at remembering to lock the door behind him.

When he finally sprung off the tram, just as it was passing the Lucky Cat café, his heart was still beating like it was trying to burst right out from his chest. The very first thing he did was look in through the window, to see if Aunt Cass was around and serving her customers, as she should’ve been.

But he didn’t see her. She wasn’t in the café during one of her busiest hours.

He shoved open the door and ran across the room, knocking past patrons so rudely that they tried to stop and lecture him, but he didn’t give them the chance. He mounted up the stairs, sore and desperate and out of breath, not even _knowing_ what the _fuck_ he was going to do if he _did_ find…

“ _Takahiro_ ,” he cried hysterically, throwing open the door to his bedroom.

Takahiro was right there. He was on the floor, as usual, playing with little robots. The boy glanced up and gave an open-mouthed grin. “Wow! You got here _so fast!_ ”

Just when Hiro thought he could begin to relax, his eyes snapped to a small movement at the back of the room. Someone was there, just behind the partition…

It was Tadashi. Sitting on his old bed, readjusting his cap low over his eyes.

Hiro thought his knees were going to buckle when Takahiro threw his arms around his neck. Hiro staggered back as he tried to hold both himself and Takahiro up as the boy repeatedly yelled out his name, strangling him with affectionate hugs. He eventually managed to get Takahiro to settle down, and he turned a dark gaze back onto his brother. Tadashi was already standing.

Hiro looked to Takahiro briefly, who just smiled like he couldn’t have been happier to see him. But Hiro couldn’t shake the feeling that this had all been a set-up.

“Wh-Where’s Cass?” Hiro demanded, trying to sound more angry than afraid. But he doubted he looked so intimidating when he was backing up and out the open door with every step Tadashi took towards him. Soon his back was flat against the wall, and he was panicking. “Wh-Where _is she?_ ”

Hiro had run out of space to back into. Still, Tadashi kept coming in closer and closer, slow and steady, like he was trying to corner a scared animal. He had his hands up like he meant no harm. “She just stepped out for a bit, Hiro, that’s all,” Tadashi said carefully. “She asked me to watch over Taka-chan while she was gone.”

“Shouldn’t you be _working?_ ” Hiro sneered at him.

Tadashi gave him a stern, baffled look. “…It’s a _Sunday,_ Hiro… Look, you’re coming off as just a little bit crazy right now, so why don’t you come downstairs and have some tea.”

Hiro laughed once, shrill and sharp, and he’d been about to say something to Tadashi he’d _always_ wanted to say, when Takahiro grabbed his hand and reminded him that there were children present. “Hiro-chan,” he beamed, tugging at him, “have tea and cookies with us! Then we can play games together!”

Hiro tried to take his hand back, but Takahiro didn’t let up on his firm grip. He felt himself cringe. This wasn’t fucking _fair._ “Taka-chan,” he murmured to him, not mad, “you told him about me?”

“Yeah, he did,” Tadashi interjected, and Hiro winced. He glanced up at his brother and saw that his arms were folded and he looked a _hell_ of a lot more than just cross. “He told me everything. And I read all that email too. What the hell are you _doing,_ Hiro? Don’t you realise how… how _creepy_ this all is?”

Hiro couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “ _Creepy?_ ”

“ _Yes!_ Don’t you think that sneaking into his home, sending secret emails, _taking him into town without telling his caregiver’s permission_ is –“

“What the _fuck?_ ” Hiro cried, and Tadashi gave him a low, gritted warning not to use that kind of language in front of Takahiro. This was _outrageous._ Hiro stammered and struggled to defend himself from the implication that he was the _thing_ he hated most in the entire world. The thing that ruined him. The thing that he was trying to save Takahiro from. “I-I am _not creepy!_ What the hell is _wrong with you?_ I-I’m just looking out for him! I am trying to protect him from _her!_ ”

“He doesn’t _need_ protecting from her! He’s fine!”

“You don’t _know that!_ ”

“I do, Hiro, because _I’m_ looking out for him – not you.”

“I trust _you_ with him about as much as I trust _her_ with him!”

“ _I don’t trust you with him at all!_ ”

They stopped yelling at each other for half a second – just long enough to hear whimpering at their feet. Hiro hadn’t even noticed that there wasn’t a small hand clutching him anymore. He looked down and felt _devastated_ to see that Takahiro was huddled on the floor; his face had gone pink and wet with tears. “ _Don’t fight,_ ” he seemed to be tearfully pleading, “ _Don’t fight…_ ”

Hiro moved to comfort him, but Tadashi beat him to it. He effortlessly swept the incapacitated boy up into his arms and started shushing him gently.

“Now look what you’ve done,” Hiro said through gritted teeth, watching them.

Tadashi threw a scowl at him. Hiro had never seen his eyes so cold before. “ _Grow up_ , Hiro,” he muttered, and then he took Takahiro downstairs.

_…Grow up?_

Hiro found himself leaning against the wall for support. He didn’t immediately follow them into the kitchen; he just stood there, feeling not all there, listening to Takahiro’s sobs grow softer and softer the further he was moved away from him. It was so strange, he thought… That must’ve been the first time Hiro had ever seen the boy so emotionally affected by his surroundings.

Slowly Hiro followed, but he hung back. He peeked around the corner to see them both there, and it just broke his heart. He felt like an outsider. He didn’t know what it was about that picture that made him so upset – watching Tadashi bounce Takahiro on his lap, and tell him happy things, and nurse him back to his usual cheerful self. Hiro didn’t know what gut-wrenching emotion he was feeling now. He didn’t know if he wanted to push Takahiro out of the way, or if he wanted to take Takahiro away from Tadashi. Maybe it was both. Maybe it was neither.

Maybe he just wanted someone to love him again – _actually_ love him.

He started to feel like, maybe, just maybe, _he_ was the only person who was still standing in his way. The only person who was preventing him from being happy again. His stubbornness and his pride and his _neuroses_ , they were… _suffocating_ …

_Maybe I should… Maybe I should just…_

Hiro just about jumped out of his skin when he heard Takahiro call his name. He was out of sight, but the kid still knew that he was right there. Hiro swallowed hard and poked his head around the corner. He tried not to look nearly as wretched as he felt. “What?”

Takahiro wasn’t crying anymore. But he still looked distressed. “You and Dashi-chan have to say sorry.”

Hiro sighed and ran a hand over his face. “Taka-chan, I’m only sorry to you. I’m sorry I yelled in front of you – I shouldn’t’ve done that.”

Takahiro whined and pointed at Tadashi. Hiro had been about to make it _very_ clear that he was _never_ going to apologise to his brother, when Tadashi called out, over the top of Takahiro’s head, “I’m sorry, Hiro. OK? _I’m sorry_.” But he sounded more exasperated than he did sincere. “Listen, neither of us want to keep fighting so… let’s just not. Let’s just… put aside all that mess for now, for Taka-chan.” He touched a hand to Takahiro’s head and the kid rubbed up into it, like a cat. Tadashi said quietly, “He seems to like having you around just as much as he likes me, so let’s just learn how to be civil to each other, and play together.”

“ _Please,_ Hiro?” Takahiro was leaning out of Tadashi’s arms, reaching out to him. “ _Pleeeease?_ ”

Hiro hated to admit it. But he couldn’t help feeling like the kid himself had been a set-up. Like he was just a ploy in Cass’ and Tadashi’s plan to keep him from becoming estranged. To bait him into coming back to the family. To force him to talk to them, and to act like there was no harm done.

He debated just walking out of the house, right then and there. But he couldn’t do that to Takahiro. There was _something_ going on. He just knew it. He was going to tear this fucked-up family _apart_ if he had to get to the truth.

“Fine,” Hiro conceded in a low voice. “Tadashi, I’m _sorry._ ” He didn’t mean it. He looked right into Tadashi’s eyes and _made_ him see that he _did not_ mean it, and Tadashi narrowed his eyes right back at him just a sliver. “ _Let’s_ be civil. For Taka-chan’s sake.”

Takahiro threw his arms into the air so fast he almost toppled off Tadashi’s lap. “ _Yaaaay!_ ” he cried, grinning. “ _Cousins!_ Can we play a game now? I wanna play _Monopoly!_ ”

Tadashi laughed. “But we’d _never_ finish it, buddy. Hiro-chan and I would be here _forever._ ”

 _God,_ Hiro thought to himself, feeling sick to his stomach. _I really fucking hope not._


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Um so there's a lot more drama in this chapter... yelling, crying, scalding liquid contact, you know - that sort of thing... so fair warning.
> 
> As always, thank you for the lovely comments x3

He should’ve left when he had the chance, Hiro soon realised. They weren’t yet twenty minutes into their game of _Monopoly,_ and Cass had already walked in through the door.

She was still wearing her coat, still had her truck keys in hand. She bent down and asked after Takahiro’s game excitedly – psyching him up even more, if that was even possible. She passed a bag of grocery items over to Tadashi, asked if there was any trouble, and then she was looking straight at Hiro.

There was no emotion in her eyes. There was just a stern, unyielding poker-face.

Hiro tried to look away. He tried to say “my turn” and roll the dice and pick up a community card and just _play the game_ and hope that she’d just leave. But then he overheard Tadashi whisper into Takahiro’s ear, “The adults are just going to have a talk downstairs, OK?”

“Hiro-chan’s not an adult!” Takahiro laughed, and Hiro just wanted to _punch_ his brother’s lights out when he saw him smile just a little too.

Tadashi was standing over him now, right next to Cass. They towered above him. They blocked out the sun that had been warming his face. _Please,_ he begged, feeling his body tremble and _cower_ before them. He wanted them to just walk out the door and _leave him alone._ He was going to cry if they didn’t leave him alone. He just wanted to stay and play the game and look into Takahiro’s effervescent, clueless face some more. He didn’t _want_ to talk to them. _Please, don’t, please…_

“Hey.” Tadashi nudged him lightly with his foot. When Hiro didn’t move – couldn’t move – Tadashi dragged him up to his feet by the collar of his shirt. The next thing he knew, Cass was gone and he was being led out the door. Tadashi sighed, “Come on, Hiro… Come on…”

He needed his brother’s help just getting down the stairs. He walked clumsily; he felt like taking a bad fall and cracking his head open and breaking every bone in body was an _infinitely_ more desirable alternative to facing his family right now. But Tadashi kept a firm hold on his arms, never letting him fall. Never letting him have the chance.

He had a moment of weakness – or was it a moment of strength? Hiro’s panic shot up and _spiked_ to impossible heights, and he turned fervently, starting back up the stairs for Takahiro – but he was caught again before he’d even made it an _inch_ on his own. He wasn’t going anywhere.

“We _just_ wanna talk,” his brother kept saying over and over again. He was trying to sound soothing, but it was _so_ hard for Hiro to feel soothed when he was being forced down the stairs. Right back to her. “We _just_ wanna talk…”

They entered the kitchen what felt like an eternity later, and Cass was already seated at the kitchen table. Three cups of freshly boiled tea were spaced around it. Tadashi sat his feeble brother down in one chair, quite close to her, before he claimed another on his opposite side.

It wasn’t so much a poker-face that Cass was wearing now. Hiro had known from the first moment she’d laid eyes on him that she was furious; he didn’t need to see it to know it to be true. He could already feel her just _radiate_ with resentment. He didn’t look at her. He just looked at his lemon tea – this random token of good-will she’d left him, before she would rip into him.

Again.

“So, Hiro,” she began, aggressively conversational, taking small sips of her hot tea. “Would you mind telling me why my fiancé’s son thinks I’m a _witch?_ ”

“That wasn’t a very nice thing to say, Hiro,” Tadashi said softly. “He’s still at that age where he believes everything you tell him. He doesn’t know that you’re not being serious.”

It was quiet for a while. They wanted him to speak. Fine. He’d try.

“Sorry,” he rasped. “It was a joke.”

They were still and silent for a moment. They seemed unforgiving. Like they had been waiting for _so_ much more than just a forced, half-hearted apology from him.

 _Fuck this,_ Hiro thought to himself, tearing up. _Fuck everything._

“…You know, I almost called the police,” Cass started abruptly. “When I went upstairs the other day and discovered Takahiro was _missing,_ I closed up shop immediately and drove around the city for _hours,_ looking for him. I was _bawling_ the entire time. I called Tadashi and he left work early just to help me. We didn’t know _where_ on earth he was. We didn’t know if we’d ever see him again… I was so _relieved_ when I came home to find him on his computer, just when I thought I’d have to call his father to tell him that _I’d lost his only son_. I asked him where he’d been and you know what he told me? He told me he’d been at the pool. But that’s a lie, isn’t it. … _Isn’t it?_ ”

Hiro remained steadfastly silent until Tadashi murmured, “Just tell us where you were, Hiro. Tell us where you took him. Please.”

“W-We… We just walked around the city, that’s all,” Hiro stammered out. He still wasn’t looking anyone in the eye. He still felt no less _stressed_ and _bullied._ “We j-just looked in shops and had some food, and th-then we… He went back.”

Someone sighed. More tea cups were gingerly sipped from. Hiro would’ve drank his, just as a distraction, as something to do, but he felt like his body would reject it the moment it passed his lips. He doubted he could even pick up the cup and bring it to his mouth; he was just that much of a _fuck-up._

“Hiro, you…” Tadashi exhaled. He didn’t sound mad like Cass. Just disappointed. Worried. “Don’t you realise how _wrong_ that was? To just take Takahiro like that?”

“I-I didn’t _take him._ ”

“Fine – you _told him_ to go with you.”

“I _didn’t –_ “ His voice cracked. They could hear it so clear in his voice – how much he wanted to cry. “I didn’t _know_ he was going to leave and not tell anyone.”

“Oh, he did tell me he was going out,” Cass remarked. “But I told him no. And he went anyway.”

Hiro raised his shaking arms and dropped them in a helpless gesture. “I _didn’t know._ ”

“OK, what about the time before that, Hiro?” Tadashi asked. “Takahiro told me that you came to his room the other week? And told him not to tell Aunt Cass that you’d been there?”

“I thought I’d seen you,” she growled. “Creeping around the café, with your hood up…”

Hiro shook his head. He wasn’t shaking his head _no;_ he was just… shaking his head. His brother had lied; this wasn’t a ‘talk’ at all. This was just an interrogation. An exercise in Intimidation. And it was all under the guise of some kind of _intervention_.

“And that was when you gave him your email, wasn’t it?” Tadashi continued. _God,_ Takahiro really had told him everything. But what the boy had failed to realise was that Tadashi couldn’t be trusted, like Hiro could be trusted. Every piece of personal information that made it past Tadashi’s ears instantly filtered through to Cass. “Hiro… some of those messages…” He paused for a quite a while between words. “Some of them were really quite disturbing… Like, when you asked Takahiro all of those questions?”

“Someone has to,” Hiro whispered, and Cass slapped her palms on the table so hard that some of their teas sloshed over the brim.

“ _Hiro,_ ” she yelled at him, and suddenly Tadashi was shuffling around in the kitchen cupboards behind them, murmuring something about paper towels. Hiro just bent his head forward even further. It hurt his neck, but what could he do. He was afraid that she’d slap his face if he continued to keep his head up. “ _Why_ can’t you believe that I’ve changed? Do you _really_ stillthink I’m that kind of person, after _all these years?”_

Hiro didn’t understand. He’d always think that she was that kind of person. She hadn’t changed, he knew, because Hiro hadn’t changed. She was just as much an abuser as Hiro was a victim.

He’d heard that some people preferred to use the more optimistic term ‘survivor’, but Hiro didn’t like to use it in relation to himself. He didn’t feel like it suited him these days.

Hiro stared at his brother. He wasn’t doing anything to help, to mitigate her wrath. He just wiped up the small pools of hot liquid from the table, keeping his head down, letting her _scream_ at him.

“You never even gave me a chance to _explain_ myself, Hiro, so I’m going to do it right now, whether you want to hear it or not.” She sighed, frustrated. “Look, I can admit that I made some mistakes.”

_Mistakes? Is that what she called them?_

“I was lonely and confused and I needed a _lot_ of help after my reckless actions had driven both my boys away from me. I realised that, in order to win you back, I _had_ to change. I learned how to relate better to people – how to relax and find someone I could love and trust. I meet Yasuo and his beautiful son, and now we’re engaged. I thought that life couldn’t have been _better._ But that wasn’t true. I decided to reach out to you – to show you how much _better_ I was. How _happy_ I was. But then you…” She shook her head at him, almost sickened. “You just… threw all of that hard work right back in my _face_. You made such _disgusting_ allegations. And now you’re poisoning Taka’s young and impressionable mind – trying to convince him that I’m a _witch_ and I’m going to _‘eat him’._ And isn’t that so funny to hear! When you send him perverted emails and encourage secrets and take him out of his _home_ without telling anyone.”

Hiro couldn’t… fucking _… believe it_. He’d never heard anything so _insane_ in his entire life.

“Y-You’re just… d-deflecting,” Hiro breathed shakily, “y-you’re trying to make it sound like _I’m_ the predator, when you-“

“Oh, for _fuck’s_ sake, Hiro!” Cass shouted, and even Tadashi winced with Hiro that time. “You don’t think I can see what you’re doing right now? Can’t see that _you’re_ the one who’s deflecting? _Projecting?”_

Hiro didn’t know what she was talking about. “B-But af-after _everything you did to me, how can you just-“_

 _“Hiro_ ,” she yelled over him as he spoke, “What I did to you was _never_ as bad as what you are suggesting I do to Takahiro! He is just a _boy –_ and _you_ were a _teenager!_ You _knew_ what was going on and yet you did _nothing_ for _months –_ so _don’t try to blame this all on me.”_

Hiro dropped his face into his hands and _sobbed._ She was really doing it. She was breaking him down. She was wearing away at his psyche, like a constant stream beating against a rock… Or like a goddamn _hammer_ coming down on fragile glass.

He didn’t want to argue with her. He just wanted to say “OK, you’re right, whatever you say” and never have to talk to her or see her or hear from her ever again. He wanted it to be over. He’d wanted everything about this to be over _long_ before it had even started. What the hell was he even still _doing_ in that _stupid place…_

He had his head on the table now. His gross sobbing and gasping and snivelling noises filled up the silence of the room. Distantly, he could hear Takahiro playing some kind of video game out loud, laughing and triumphantly shouting out his victories…

She couldn’t even let him _cry_ in peace. “I don’t want you coming around here again, Hiro. You made your choice to walk away from us, and now you have to stay away. I don’t even want you in the same _room_ as my future stepson.”

 _No, please…_ Hiro felt his body wring and tighten, trying to squeeze more and more tears out of him. _Please don’t take him away from me, he’s all that I have left…_

Hiro jerked when he felt someone touch his head. His first thought had been to brace himself, because someone was going to grab his hair and knock his face into the table or something… but that didn’t happened. They touched him nicely, soothingly. They rubbed his back. Hiro still felt _icky_ and tense and cold until he could know for certain that it was brother doing it, and not her.

“Aunt Cass,” Tadashi murmured, and he sounded hesitant and doleful. He was speaking quietly but Hiro could still hear him over the echo of his own sobs _._ “Don’t you think that’s a bit harsh? …Takahiro still _likes_ him, you know… He’d be heartbroken if you separated them.”

At least his big brother was defending his position when he was in no state to do so himself.

But he was still up against a powerful force. “ _No,_ ” she shot back, “You read those emails! He’s just going to keep doing this! He’s just going to keep trying and trying to convince Taka that I’ve done something wrong, and then – what’s stopping Taka from _running away from me?”_

“No more email,” Tadashi agreed quickly, like he was glad to find common ground with her. “Absolutely. But… What about supervised visits? When I’m around? Takahiro likes playing with the both of us, together. He doesn’t have many friends here yet, so-”

“I can’t _risk it,_ Tadashi,” she cried, exasperated, and Hiro winced as he heard her scoot her chair out to stand up. “I _can’t_ afford to lose this boy. I can’t afford to lose Yasuo. I _know_ that Yasuo wouldn’t want _him_ around his only child.”

“But… Aunt Cass, have you even-“

“ _Hiro-chaaaaan!_ ”

Hiro tensed – more than ever before. He tried harder to fight back the onslaught of tears. _No, Taka-chan, go away,_ he begged as he heard the kid bound down the stairs. _Please just go, just leave this place, don’t get yourself into trouble because of me ever again, please, you can’t see me like this…_

Hiro still had his head down, but he could hear everything that was happening around him. Taka-chan arrived on the bottom step with a large _thud,_ and he was quiet for a few seconds, as if he was taking in the scene. He asked, “Hiro-chan…?” and his voice was curious, puzzled.

“Taka-chan, go back upstairs,” Tadashi ordered lightly. “We’re still talking. I’ll be up soon.”

When Takahiro next spoke, his voice wobbled. “Hiro-chan…”

Hiro couldn’t do this. He couldn’t stay quiet for as long as he felt Takahiro just _standing_ there – watching him helplessly. He sucked in a huge, shivering breath and _cried,_ and suddenly there were small arms around him, and a small head against his own. Hiro clutched at the kid like he was his life preserver. “ _Taka-chan,_ ” he tried to say, but it only came out as a squeaky whimper.

“Why are you being mean to Hiro-chan!” Takahiro demanded. “Leave Hiro-chan alone!”

“Sweetie,” Cass sighed, and Hiro could feel her trying to peel Takahiro off him. It just made Hiro clutch him even tighter. “Hiro has to go home now, Taka, come on.”

“ _No-oooo,_ ” he whined. Hiro couldn’t be sure, but he wondered from the struggle if Takahiro was fighting her off. He sounded like he was on the verge of tears himself. “I wanna stay with Hiro-chan! He’s my friend – friends stay together!”

Cass was getting impatient. She was getting frustrated. “Takahiro, get _away_ from him! He’s _not your friend!”_

“Yes he _is,_ ” Takahiro wept, and Hiro felt like his heart was _fucking breaking_ – he had no idea what to do. This was so _terrible._ This was all so _fucking painful_ to listen to _._ “He’s my friend and you’re a _witch!_ ” he accused with a voice that was halfway between a high-pitched scream and a roar.

“Taka, I am _not a witch! Witches aren’t real!”_

 _“You are!_ You _are_ a witch! You’re an evil witch and you do bad things to Hiro-chan and you make him sad! _Stop hurting Hiro-chan!_ ”

Hiro had never cried so hard in his _goddamn life_. It was too much – he tried to push Takahiro away, tried to make it to the exit, tried not to cause any more trouble than he already had, but –

“ _Burn witch!_ ”

Takahiro picked up Hiro’s mug of steaming tea and threw it at Cass.

Hiro saw it all happen with wide, fearful eyes. He saw the tea splash up under her chin and all down her front. He saw her jerk and stumble and convulse from the impact. She opened her mouth and began _howling_ in pain and shock. He watched her, petrified and useless, as she grabbed a hand towel and held it to her suddenly red chest and neck, her face screwed up tight in _agony_ – and then Hiro was looking at Tadashi’s _terrified_ face.

“ _Leave_ , Hiro,” he yelled at him, and Hiro didn’t need to be told twice. He was given a shove towards the stairs when he couldn’t make himself move _nearly_ as fast he needed to right now. He had to get out of there. He could hear the whole kitchen erupt in tearsand screams and _panic_ behind him – he had to move faster.

He ran through the café, past the crowd of frozen, quiet faces, and he burst through the front door – barely able to catch himself from falling to the pavement. He picked himself up and he _ran_ all the home _,_ because he was _far_ tooemotional to do anything rational right now. The threats were gone, but he still ran like they were right on his heel.

He was scared. He was _so fucking scared_.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here have this short chapter because I am currently really really STUCK on the next one .-. halp
> 
> Thank you all SO much for the comments - I have never received so many comments on a chapter before!! (even if some of them were a little gung-ho about Takahiro's actions ha ha... ha.......)
> 
> A couple of you asked about Takahiro's dad sooooo.......

When Hiro got back to his room, he was still shaking. He’d run almost all of the way back; it was a miracle he’d made it so far without any food or sleep. He must’ve been running off pure adrenaline to have stayed on his feet for as long as he did.

Safe in his room, he pressed himself hard up against a corner and just sank to the floor, his mind racing through so many thoughts and his body heaving with so many emotions. More than _anything_ else, he felt out of his depth. He was losing his grip. He’d come back with his self-worth depleted and his resources overwhelmed. He’d just gone up against them – the only living family members he had left, the people who had raised him and clothed him and fed him, the only people in his life who he used to think _mattered_ – and he’d… lost.

And then he’d watched his only friend – the only person who was convinced Hiro’s pain was real – try to hurt those people. Everything was such a _mess._

_Takahiro…_

Hiro managed to get himself back on his computer, somehow. He started an email to Takahiro, asking – _begging_ to know if he was OK and if they’d hurt him and if everything was alright over there. He sent it, hoping like hell that he would get something back _immediately,_ and… he did. But a little _too_ immediately.

“Oh no,” he whispered to the room. “No… Fuck – _no!_ ”

_Message cannot send._

Hiro tried sending it again – nothing. He changed the words slightly – nothing. He wrote to another one of his email addresses – it sent without a hitch. It wasn’t a connectivity issue, it wasn’t the email server’s fault, and it wasn’t his own computer preventing him from contacting Takahiro. Something was wrong with the kid’s email.

And then he realised. Takahiro’s account had been deleted. Nothing could be sent to it because it didn’t exist anymore.

Hiro spat out more expletives and kicked the front panels off his computers in his terror and frustration. He was breathing too heavily, his heart was pounding too fast, his head and his throat and his heart _ached_. Cass couldn’t do this. He wasn’t going to let her get away with this.

He went back to his computer. Tanaka, hadn’t Tadashi said once? Yasuo Tanaka. That was Cass’ fiancé’s name.

“ _God,_ ” he moaned despairingly upon finding _multiple_ ‘Yasuo Tanaka’s living in San Fransokyo. He tried social media accounts, he tried work profiles, he tried local news reports – he tried everything. But he didn’t even know what the man looked like. Hiro didn’t even really know anything about him besides what the man _didn’t_ know: that he was engaged to a _monster,_ and his only son was in danger.

Hiro couldn’t really prove it yet, but… Yasuo still had a right to know just who he was about to enter into harmonious matrimony with.

He found the right Yasuo quicker using Takahiro’s name rather than any work information he’d scraped from Tadashi. An article popped up about a generous father who had donated his tech to his son’s school for the sake of smoother, more interactive educational practices. Hiro didn’t bother to read the article; there was a picture of Takahiro grinning right there, snug in the arms of a man with freckles on his nose, gold-rimmed glasses over small kind eyes, and hair that was greying at the temples. He had almost the exact same grin as Takahiro; it was unmistakably his father.

It didn’t take Hiro too long to get a cell number after that. He dialled it into his phone, hesitant with each new number he entered. As he let it ring, he tried to think of what he was going to say. Was he going to have a real conversation with this man and ensure that he had some credibility and sensitivity before he told him the truth, or was he just going to blurt out “your fiancé is a rapist” and hang up? He didn’t know. He hadn’t given himself enough time to think it through.

Someone picked up and Hiro’s heart stopped. “ _Hello, this is Tanaka._ ”

“M-Mr Tanaka… san. Uh…” He swallowed and took a deep breath and forced himself to be calm. “You don’t know me, but um, I’m your fiancé’s nephew… Uh, th-the other one. The youngest one. Hiro Hamada.”

The ensuing silence on the other end made Hiro think that maybe he shouldn’t have opened with who he was. Maybe he shouldn’t have done that at all. It made Hiro worry that, perhaps, Yasuo _did_ know him. Or at least think he did.

“ _What is it that you want, Hiro?”_ Yasuo asked in a cautious, patient voice.

“I-I just… I wanted to tell you that… I don’t think you should be marrying Cass.”

_“Why.”_

It wasn’t working. Telling himself to just keep calm wasn’t working, no matter how many times he said it. “B-Because, there are some things that you don’t know about her… And, I think, if you knew about them, then… You wouldn’t leave your son alone with her.”

Hiro had hoped that that would be all he’d have to mercifully say on the matter – that Yasuo would be instantly shaken, and would have to excuse himself to call his son, but… he didn’t.

His tone made it seem like he was challenging Hiro. _“What are you inferring about my fiancé?”_

“So… she never told you then?” Hiro asked quietly. “She never told you about… how my brother and I, her nephews, became estranged from her?”

_“Tadashi is not estranged from her. I have seen your brother and your aunt together on multiple occasions.”_

“OK, so _I’m_ estranged,” Hiro corrected, growing more and more agitated, “But… L-Look, you just – you shouldn’t leave Takahiro alone with her because she’s _dangerous._ ”

 _“That’s funny,”_ Yasuo said coldly, _“because I just got off the phone with her, and she told me the exact same thing about you.”_

Hiro trembled. “N-No, please – _please_ listen to me, you have _no_ idea what I’ve been through, what she _did_ to me when I was just fourteen years old, and how she forced me and my brother out because she was-s s-sexually abusing me and –“

 _“Hiro, Hiro,”_ Yasuo spoke with a light and falsely reassuring voice, _“You’re not a stranger to me. I know you quite well from your brother and your aunt. They’ve told me a lot about you over these past few years. Cass was very interested in reconnecting with you, and she had my full support, despite some of my concerns. But, from what I’ve heard lately, it had only widened the rifts between you. She said you were anxious, paranoid, emotionally unstable, obsessive and delusional –“_

“ _Please,_ ” Hiro moaned into the phone, feeling his resolve cave in and _crush him,_ “Please just _listen to me,_ she can’t be trust-“

 _“And,”_ he continued, raising his voice and sharpening his tone a little, _“She tells me that you’ve been spending an uncomfortable amount of time with my son.”_

Hiro clutched his hair and _pulled_ and wished he knew how this was happening to him again. _No one believed him._ Everyone Cass talked to now always had the exact same _bullshit_ to spout.

_“Since you managed to get a hold of me, I’d like to take this opportunity to personally ask you to stay away from Takahiro. It was bad enough that you were trying to turn him against his future mother, but I don’t want you anywhere near my son if you also incite him to commit violence against her.”_

Hiro jumped to his defence while he still could, “I-I _never_ encouraged that, Sir, _believe me_ – I _never_ told him to do that. Listen, _please be reasonable-“_

_“Oh I think I’m being quite calm and reasonable with you right now, despite the circumstances. I could ask worse things of you than to stay as far away from my son as possible. But I don’t believe in senselessly abusing those who clearly need help.”_

“What?” Hiro didn’t understand, but he didn’t care – he desperately tried to keep him on the line as he could feel Yasuo slip away. “M-Mr Tanaka, _please,_ I’ll stay as far away from your son as you _like_ , _just…_ keep _her_ away from him! If you love your son – if you ever cared about his well-being, o-or keeping him safe and happy, then you’d just come back to San Fransokyo and _take him away from her!_ Find a new fiancé! A better mom for your son! Anyone but _her!”_

It was quiet on Yasuo’s end for a few seconds. _“How dare you speak to me like that,”_ he muttered, and his furious tone made Hiro shrink. _“I love my son, and I love my fiancé. I_ am _going back, but it’s only to clear up the mess_ you’ve _made of things… I know that both of them would be much happier and safer if they didn’t have_ you _interfering and ruining their lives. Just leave us all in peace, Hiro Hamada. You do enough damage.”_

“Mr Tanaka, I’m sorry, I…”

Hiro took the phone slowly away from his ear. Yasuo had hung up.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is getting a little exhausting isn't it haha... Just a head's up that I aim to have it finished in another one or two chapters. And I'm a little worried about giving everyone emotional fatigue now so I'll try to... tone it down a bit :V (maybe)
> 
> Slight warning for the second paragraph, right there: Specific sexually abusive acts are mentioned/alluded to. Also, later, Tadashi infers some things about Hiro...
> 
> Thank you all so much for your kind and helpful comments, lovelies <3

There was no one else to turn to. There was no one else left. Hiro had tried phoning the authorities, but without any “real” evidence, or “legitimate” cause for concern that something sinister was going on in that house, he couldn’t do anything to make them intervene. After ten minutes of _bickering_ , he was desperate enough that he tried to use his _own_ abusive experiences as a worthwhile reason to check in on Taka-chan… But that had just taken Hiro down another path entirely. A path that – only one minute into the sceptical and invasive questions – Hiro realised he just did not want to take.

He tried to picture himself in a courtroom. He tried to picture the pale, dismayed look on his brother’s face as their aunt’s well-paid lawyer insisted upon how willing and _eager_ Hiro had been, at the time. He tried to picture the scandalised faces of the jury as it was described to them, in humiliatingly intimate detail, just how hard and fast he’d come when she first put her mouth around him. How he’d dug his nails into her thighs when he first moved his head between them.

No, he… He couldn’t.

He just couldn’t do it.

Resigned, Hiro thanked the officer for his time and hung up. He could already tell from the officer’s tone that no one over there was buying his shaky and vague claims. And he knew that mentioning his own abuse hadn’t helped things. By bringing it up in a last-ditch attempt to persuade the authorities to _do something_ , and hanging up almost immediately after they’d tried to pry more information out of him, Hiro knew that he’d given them the very clear impression that it was just a lie. A poorly-constructed, off-the-cuff _lie_ that had backfired.

It probably hadn’t set a very good precedent for every other abuse case out there that was yet to be reported. Or all the ones that _had_ been reported, and swept under the rug. Hiro imagined that officer was having a good, long laugh at his expense with his colleagues right about now.

Besides, it was just as the officer had said earlier, when Hiro had first given the abuser’s name _. “Cass Hamada? Oh, the lady who works the Lucky Cat Café? She makes some_ good _cakes.”_

Hiro wondered just how many more of San Fransokyo’s criminal justice officials _loved_ her cakes.

He sat on the floor of his room and just stared at his phone. He was sore, he was tired, and he was _starving._ He was exhausted in just about every way that he could be. He wanted nothing more than to just black out and forget that this ridiculous, awful world existed for a while.

But he had one last phone call to make.

He called the number with a lot more ease than any of the others he’d made that day. Tadashi picked up after the first few rings. _“Hiro?”_ he answered, alarm mixed with concern. _“Hiro, how are you doing?”_

“…Oh, fine,” Hiro responded casually. _What a moron,_ he thought. Fortunately, Hiro didn’t sound so emotional anymore. After a long day of crying and yelling and stressing, he’d found that he’d finally reached his limit. He still felt pain, but it was dulled by the exhaustion, and he could no longer show it in his hoarse voice.

“How are you?” Hiro asked him right back, trying to illustrate just how _stupid_ his brother’s question was.

_“Where are you? Do you need me to see you? Just give me your address and I’ll come over immediately.”_

“ _No_ ,” Hiro sighed into one hand. Having his brother try to put his remorseful arms around him and fuss over the state of his room and the state of his _life_ was the lastthing he needed right now. “Aren’t you… taking care of Cass?”

Hiro hadn’t really asked for it, but he still got a full report on Cass’ condition. _“She’s OK – she got a few blisters, but thankfully it was mostly just first-degree burns. She’d bandaged up now, but she finds it hard to move her neck and shoulders without pain, so she’s taking about a week off… But she’s gonna be fine.”_

“Oh. Good.” Hiro honestly _was_ relieved to hear that Cass hadn’t been too badly injured. But he didn’t sound at all like it, which he preferred.

 _“It was lucky,_ ” his brother said through a slow laugh, _“We didn’t even need to go to the hospital in the end – I had a Baymax on me, and he did just fine on his first patient… Cass was very satisfied with her care.”_

“Huh. I’m happy for you.” At least one of them had their life together, Hiro thought. He felt a pang of regret shoot through him when he asked, “How’s Taka-chan?”

Tadashi gave a long, weary sigh. _“He’s… He’s calmed down a bit, but… He was pretty upset after you left. And he almost fainted when he saw what he’d done to Aunt Cass, so I don’t know if he just didn’t realise how dangerous hot water was, or… Well, he’s grounded now. It hardly seems like an appropriate punishment for what he did but…”_

“It’s not his fault,” Hiro murmured in his defence.

 _“Hiro, no one is saying that it’s his fault; they’re saying that it’s yours. You’re responsible._ You _got him into trouble.”_

Hiro felt his chest tighten. He felt numb and tingly and tense as he imagined Cass’ burns on his own skin. “I never told him to do that,” he said, with no emotion behind it whatsoever. “I didn’t tell him to _burn the witch._ If you’d actually read those emails and not just honed in on whatever you thought was _creepy_ of me, then you’d know that I never condoned that…” He added in a low, knowing voice, “Not that any of those emails are probably still around anymore...”

Tadashi was silent for a couple of moments. Hiro could almost hear all of the cogs turning in his head.

“And if you’d really read them,” Hiro continued, “you’d know that I never told Takahiro that she was a witch. _He_ thought shewas a witch. And I just…”

_“Encouraged him?”_

Hiro sighed, frustrated. “I’m just saying… Why would Takahiro say something that like if everything was fine with him.”

 _“Because he’s a_ kid _, Hiro,”_ Tadashi argued. _“And kids like to have healthy imaginations._ You _were the one who convinced him that she was an actual witch. He_ never _had any problems with Aunt Cass until you came into his life. He loved_ _spending time with her. He used to want to go over to her place all the time. He loved all of our old toys and computers, he loved all of the food she baked for him –”_

“But he hates cakes,” Hiro said. “He _hates_ her cakes, just like I do.”

 _“So?”_ his brother re-joined, not understanding. _“That doesn’t mean anything, does it?”_

That gave Hiro some pause. Tadashi had stopped talking on his end; he seemed to be waiting for some kind of clarification. But… Hiro didn’t know what to say. He didn’t have an answer. He knew that Takahiro hated cakes – just as _he_ hated cakes – but… was it for the same reasons?

Hiro started to wonder if it really did mean anything. If it had _ever_ meant anything.

 _“She bakes him other things,”_ Tadashi assured, moving the conversation forward again. _“Look – the point is that everyone thinks it would be better if you just stayed away from him. At least for a little while, until things have calmed down. Yasuo was so shocked – he says Takahiro has_ never _hurt another person like that before.”_

 _She’s not a person, she’s a monster,_ Hiro thought to himself. But he couldn’t bring himself to say it aloud.

_“You’re not helping him like you think you are. You’re just… confusing him, and teaching him a lot of bad habits. Cass wants you gone because she feels like she can’t trust you with him. If nothing else, Hiro… You’re just a bad influence on this kid.”_

“That’s not the reason Cass doesn’t want me around him anymore,” Hiro muttered, utterly _convinced_ that he was right on point. “If she gets rid of me then that makes it easier for her to do whatever she wants to Takahiro. He’ll be all alone over there with her, when his dad’s gone. He’ll have no one.”

 _“Hiro,_ ” Tadashi groaned, as if he were just getting so _tired_ of his brother’s conspiracies and his suppositions. _“She doesn’t want you around because you are_ ruining _her life – her new life that she’s worked_ so hard _for. That’s why she’s so angry with you; you’re trying to turn absolutely_ everyone _against her.”_

“What do you think she’s trying to do to me? Look, no one _believes me_ , Tadashi,” Hiro whispered, and he felt his heart splinter just a little as he said it. “Everyone either thinks I’m lying or I’m some kind of crazy. No one takes me seriously when I try to tell them that Takahiro isn’t safe when he’s with her. That’s why…” Hiro swallowed. His brother was impatient, but he was still on the line with him. There was still a chance he was listening. “That’s why I called you, because… you have to look out for him.”

 _“I_ do _look out for him,_ ” Tadashi sighed. _“He’s even staying at my place until Yasuo gets back –_ not _because he needs protecting from Aunt Cass, but because she needs rest.”_

“At your place…” Hiro felt at least a little relieved. At least it was away from her. For now. “Can you make sure he never has to go back to her place?”

_“Hiro…”_

“Tadashi.” Hiro took a long breath. He tried to make it very clear to his brother that he’d never been more serious in his life when he said, “You need to keep her _away_ from him _._ ”

Hiro’s heart pounded. He hoped this was it. He hoped this would be the pay-off, after _hours_ of trying to get through to others. This would be his brother’s redemption, right here. After all the awful things he’d said and done – if he could only just see how important, how _crucial_ this was, then…

 _“NO,”_ his brother cried angrily, making Hiro wince and _cringe_. _“Are you – do you even hear yourself sometimes? Do you hear how_ insane _that is? He’s going to be her stepson! God, you sound so…_ obsessed, _Hiro. It’s not healthy._ Nothing _about what you’ve been doing this entire time has been healthy.”_

Hiro shuddered. He’d… never really ever felt healthy before. He wondered what that might’ve felt like exactly. Probably nice.

 _“Think about it, Hiro,”_ Tadashi insisted. He was trying and failing to ease up on his exasperated tone. _“Think about everything that you’ve done in the past few weeks and how_ wrong _it all was. How much harm you did rather than good. For one thing, you contacted Takahiro behind all our backs and persuaded him to keep secrets from his caregivers. Doesn’t that kind of behaviour seem familiar to you?”_

Hiro felt chills roll through his entire body at that. _Don’t,_ he wanted to say, but couldn’t. _Don’t compare to me to her._

_“You snuck into his room when he was alone and no one else was around. It was completely unsolicited, and you said to never tell anyone that you’d been there. Again, isn’t that familiar?”_

“Tadashi…”

 _It was different,_ he wanted to say, but couldn’t.

_“You asked him repeatedly if people were hurting him, and he always avoided the question. He never gave you a straight ‘yes’ or ‘no’ answer, did he. Why do you think that was, Hiro?”_

“Because he’s _scared._ ”

Hiro could start to feel his breaths come quick and unsteady. It was becoming both harder and easier to talk. Hiro found himself filling in the blanks in his mind hastily, like he knew every answer before he even knew all the questions.

“He’s scared of what Cass will do to him if she finds out that I’ve been trying to help – that’swhy she doesn’t want me anywhere near him. That’swhy he always wants to spend time with me. That’swhy he leaves the house with me so easily. That’swhy he…threw hot water at her _._ He wants to get _away_ from her, Tadashi.” Hiro struggled to breathe. Somehow, he felt like his own words were choking him. “H-He’s in the exactsame position as I once was. _I_ _know it._ He wants to get awayand _no one_ is helping him. _I’m_ the only one who can help him, because _I’m the only one who understands what he’s going through. I have to save him._ ”

Hiro put his back up against the wall. He held his phone down a little as he tried to catch his breath. He was breathing hard and shallow and ragged like he’d just run a marathon – like he was on the verge of a heart attack. He didn’t understand. He’d just been sitting still this entire time, calmly talking on the phone…

 _“…You know, Aunt Cass was pretty delusional back then too,”_ Tadashi said quietly after a long, unconvinced silence. Like he’d seen this all before. _“But she still managed to change. Maybe it’s time that you changed too.”_

“What,” Hiro breathed, “wh-what does that mean?”

_“It means that Taka-chan isn’t the one who needs help, Hiro – it’s you.”_

“What?”

 _“You need to talk to someone about all of this, Hiro,”_ Tadashi pleaded with him. _“Look, this kid isn’t_ you _. ‘Saving him’ isn’t going to fix all of your own problems.”_

“…No, it’s going to fix all of _his_ problems _._ ” Hiro tried to breathe evenly again, but everything was hurting. The inside of his throat felt it had been striped with paint remover. His eyes felt like someone had jabbed the ducts with an ice-pick just to make them start weeping again. “This _isn’t_ _about me._ ”

_“It isn’t?”_

Hiro could hear it in his brother’s voice – how doubtful he was _._ But Hiro didn’t have the energy to convince him otherwise. Hiro barely had enough energy to convince _himself_ anymore.

 _“Please, Hiro,_ ” his brother begged lightly. He was speaking with such a cajoling, comforting voice now. _“I know you think we hate you and we want to get rid of you, but we don’t. We just want you to get better, so you can be happy and move on and just… enjoy life again. Please. Aunt Cass and I would pay for any therapy that you need. She knows some people who are very, very good at what they do. They helped her, after all. And, maybe after a while, if you get better, you’d be able to see Takahiro again. Be his cousin. Be at the wedding. Join the family again.”_

Tears dripped down Hiro’s face, but he didn’t say anything. He didn’t know what to say. It all sounded so _lovely._ No more fights, no more dark secrets, no more _abuse…_ But he couldn’t picture himself there. He couldn’t imagine the portrait of a perfect, happy family, so long as he was still around.

Maybe his brother was right, he thought. Maybe he _was_ ruining their lives. Maybe Aunt Cass had changed. Maybe she was kind, and loving, and nurturing, and _flawless,_ and _Hiro_ was the conniving monster in his own story. He didn’t know. He didn’t know what to think anymore. What to do.

He felt like he had that very morning, when he’d watched Takahiro and Tadashi together in the kitchen. How they recovered so quickly, how they _thrived_ off each other’s positivity, how they reached out to him and asked him to just forgive and forget and ignore all of the bad in the world and just _play._

He’d let the silence drag on for far too long. _“Hiro?”_ His brother was getting worried. _“Hiro? Are you OK?”_

“Fine,” he blurted, obviously not. He shook his head helplessly. He had nothing left to say that his brother couldn’t just… turn against him. The raw muscles in his throat were clenching down hard around a sob that was trying to escape, and he refused to let it for as long as he was still on the phone to his brother. He had to hang up, before he made himself look any more foolish than he already had. “Bye, Dashi,” he choked out.

_“Hiro, wait, do you have enou-“_

He dropped the phone from his ear and tried to muster enough coordination to slide the call to an end, but he couldn’t do it before hearing his brother offer to send him more money. Because money was the one thing he sounded like he really needed right about now.

Hiro let the phone slip to the floor, and, feeling dizzy, he lay down beside it and closed his eyes. He didn’t even have enough strength to make it to his own bed.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so this is it. The beginning of the end. I'm just going to post the last three chapters right now because they're done so why not, and also I just hate cliffhangers, don't you?

Hiro didn’t see the point in getting out of bed anymore. He just lay there, feeling more and more like a corpse left to rot in a humid room than an actual living human. He watched movies he couldn’t follow, he played games he didn’t like anymore, he watched porn that wasn’t stimulating, and he only ate when he remembered to.

He didn’t want to see or hear from anyone. He didn’t want to do anything productive with this life. He didn’t want to do anything.

\-------

Hiro had barely noticed that classes had started again until, one morning, he received a call from one of his classmates. He didn’t pick up or anything; he just happened to feel in the mood to listen to the voice mail. It was from a guy named Josh who he often sat next to in lectures, and brushed up against in the labs as they were working on their respective projects. He wasn’t a friend. He didn’t sound concerned.

Josh didn’t ask why Hiro hadn’t shown up to class for the last few weeks. He only called to inform Hiro, quite sternly, that people were beginning to notice that he hadn’t been in to the labs. That his final robotics project had just been sitting in a corner, untouched, gathering dust for a while now. He was told, without sympathy, that he was going to _fail_ the year if he didn’t do something about it and quick. He was right on the cusp of gaining his qualification, and he was going to _fail._

Hiro tried to let that sink in. He tried to let the wake-up call scare him, and it _did,_ but it didn’t motivate him to do something about it. He found himself getting angry at his classmate. He felt like calling Josh back just to tell him to fuck off and to mind his own damn business and to keep working on that pile of junk-yard trash he called a _robotics_ project.

Josh was right. If he didn’t go back to the Institute now, then that was _months_ of hard work and _thousands_ of dollars down the drain. Credibility too. Things he’d never recover.

 _God,_ he thought. He hadn’t even finished his holiday homework yet, let alone…

Hiro curled up on his bed and had another snack, played another film. His life was falling to pieces, and he was just letting it happen.

\-------

At some point he’d missed an important call. Between ignoring calls from his brother, the Institute, classmates, and everyone else who wanted to “check in” on him, he’d missed a call from his new manager one morning. Hiro hadn’t checked a calendar in a while, but had a deep, nauseating feeling that it was a Monday. The Monday he was supposed to start work.

Hiro didn’t call back. He didn’t run the five minutes down the street to apologise for his tardy, avoidant behaviour. He didn’t beg for a second chance because he _needed_ the money, and he didn’t promise to make it up to them somehow. He didn’t do any of that, like he knew he should’ve.

He just pulled the pillow tighter across his head.

\-------

Eventually his flatmates must’ve realised that they hadn’t seen their latest arrival in a while. They congregated outside his room one evening and Hiro couldn’t ignore a visit as easily as he could a phone call.

When he opened the door, all three of them stepped back. A pained sort of watery-eyed smile crossed their faces. Did he really smell that bad? He supposed after living like a corpse for a few nights, it wasn’t so outrageous that he’d begun to smell like one too.

“Hey guys,” he murmured to them, deadpan. “How’s it going?” He gave them a once-over and it hurt just to look at them. They were all bright colours, shiny shoes, clean hair, and perfect faces. They looked like they were about to go out. “You guys looked dressed up,” he commented, nodding, having nothing else to say.

“Hiro,” Carla started slowly. “You remember we told you we were having some people over? On the fourth? …Tonight?”

“Tonight,” Hiro echoed. “Oh…”

“Did you see our note?” Nick asked. “On the fridge?”

Hiro shook his head. He didn’t use the fridge anymore. He didn’t buy food he couldn’t keep in his room. “Sorry, I…”

“That’s OK,” Lizzie soothed, smiling with perfect teeth. “Well, we just wanted to see how you were doing, and if maybe you wanted to… come downstairs?”

“You’ve been spending a lot of time in there,” Nick said, pointing into Hiro’s room. He shrugged. “Thought you might wanna come down and have a few drinks with us. Maybe meet some people.”

“Everyone’s really friendly,” Lizzie assured. “It’ll be a good time. You should join us.”

Hiro stared into their sincere faces. But he didn’t understand. They were so… _beautiful._ The girls looked like they each had a professional styling team spending hours putting together their look, and Nick looked like he’d just stepped out of a European cologne commercial. Hiro didn’t belong with these people. He didn’t deserve to breathe the same air as them and their attractive, outgoing, industrious friends.

“Why would you want a loser like me there,” Hiro said, laughing a little, but no one laughed with him. No one even smiled. What followed was a silence so awkward and uncomfortable that it had Hiro convinced they _did_ think he was a loser. He got it now; they were just being polite, and he was supposed to politely decline. They didn’t want him there at all.

Hiro didn’t know why they had even bothered to ask. “Sorry,” he mumbled, bowing his head and backing up into his dark little hovel again. “I’m… busy…”

He tried to close the door but someone stopped him. “Hiro, no,” Lizzie cried, poking her head between the gap. “We’re really worried about you. We want to cheer you up. We _want_ you to join us. Come on, it’ll be fun!”

Hiro didn’t know anymore. He’d been so keen to make an appearance at a _real_ party, about a week or two ago, when the idea had first been put to him. But now he was just… aggressively indifferent.

He supposed, though, it was worth checking out. He didn’t have to hang around; he could always just go back to his room when the scene no longer interested him.

He stared up at Lizzie cautiously. “You sure?”

She nodded, her pretty eyes wide with enthusiasm. “Absolutely. _Please_ come.”

Hiro didn’t have a good reason to say no. “OK,” he agreed, running a hand through his hair. _Gross,_ he thought. He felt so _greasy._ “I’m just… gonna shower first…”

Lizzie’s smile tightened. “Yeah, you should do that.”

\-------

Hiro didn’t have an awful lot of choice in his look. He’d only done his laundry once since he’d moved in, and most of his clothes were lying in heaps on the floor. He kept some clean clothes on the back of his desk chair, but he quickly realised that _clean_ had been a very generous term he’d afforded them. So he dug around in the bottom of his drawers and found some old clothes that he swore he hadn’t worn since he was still in high school. He doubted that anything would fit as he pulled on a pair of holey black jeans and a red ninja shirt.

Oh. He’d been wrong. Well, the clothes were a little short on him, but everything still fit just fine. It was like he’d barely grown at all in past four years.

Or maybe he’d lost some weight.

At least he was clean.

By the time Hiro wandered downstairs, people were already starting to fill up the living room. The place had been cleared of all the crap that had just been lying around, and now the main area looked so spotless and spacious. There were snacks on almost every available surface, and all kinds of alcoholic bottles and cans and shot glasses lined the kitchen counter.

Hiro noticed Nick cracking open a beer in there and he ghosted up behind him. “Hey Ni-“

“ _Jesus_ Christ,” Nick cursed, and some of his drink spilt to the floor in light slaps. Hiro stepped back from him a little, alarmed, but Nick was soon laughing. “You scared the _shit_ out of me. Here, you can have this. Drink up, kid.”

Hiro reluctantly took the sticky bottle from Nick’s hand. Asahi Draft. Lager. He could smell it from here. His tongue recoiled in his mouth, just remembering the foul taste of it…

Everything about this moment was starting to remind him of his eighteenth birthday party.

“Got anything stronger.”

Nick looked back at him, surprised. “…Sure thing,” he said, passing over what looked like a mixed drink. Hiro didn’t know what was in it, and he didn’t care. He clinked it against Nick’s fresh beer and tried to down it like water. “Cheers.”

“ _Kanpai._ ”

That had been Hiro’s first drink of the night. And, for as long as his flatmates kept pouring and mixing his drinks for him, he didn’t stop.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *hides* oh boy... no one saw this coming did they... I have absolutely NO idea how readers will react to this D: I'm so, so sorry...
> 
> If you don't want spoilers at all (because you like to be horribly surprised) then stop reading the notes now.
> 
> WARNING = This chapter contains graphic descriptions of MALE RAPE. There is also some ALCOHOL ABUSE (kinda) and GENDER DISCRIMINATION. For those of you who would rather not read it, or need some forewarning, here is what happens = Hiro gets drunk at a party and he doesn't count his drinks. He ends up with a twenty-something y/o woman in his bedroom. The scene starts out consensual, at first, but then becomes rape when Hiro asks her to stop and she doesn't. He is reminded of the abuse he experienced at the hands of Cass as a child. Hiro leaves the party and calls a helpline, but is promptly rejected simply for being male. He then breaks into Tadashi's place to see Takahiro, and blacks out.
> 
> I have tried to really capture how Hiro feels in this high-risk situation. For many people, this is how rape actually occurs: It starts as consensual and then goes too far, and victims can often feel like they can't ask to stop because they consented at the start. But everyone has the right to withdraw their consent at any time, and have their decision be respected. Being drunk is not an excuse, for either party. Communication and safety are very important.
> 
> (I should also like to point out that this is not at all an accurate portrayal of helplines! They are generally run by very helpful and supportive people! Please trust them - this is just a story!)
> 
> PLEASE tell me if there is something I need to address, change, give a warning for, etc. Please be safe, lovelies!

It was a real party now. Or, at least, it was close to what Hiro considered a _real_ party. The kind he’d only ever seen in films. Techno-pop music blared from _everywhere_ and filled the walls and buzzed right through him. The house was stifling and smelt so strongly of alcohol now that Hiro swore someone could get drunk just off _breathing_ the air. The stink of booze mixed with girl perfumes and guy colognes made Hiro wonder if one lit match would light up the entire place in an instant.

A few friends had inevitably turned into several dozen. They were so many people now that most of them were standing. Hiro had been lucky enough to take a seat at one of the couches earlier, and he hadn’t given it up since. He hadn’t needed to, not when his flatmates kept bringing him drinks and new people to talk with. At first, he’d just made small talk with the early birds, talking about classes he no longer attended, and aspirations he didn’t have anymore. And then he was brought various “tech-wizards” like himself – people who knew how computers worked and had interesting applications to discuss.

He’d have to thank Lizzie for bringing him downstairs, once it was all over. He was actually _enjoying_ himself. He hadn’t once felt so uncomfortable that he had to escape back to his room. He was talking to people, and it wasn’t like pulling teeth as usual; the drinks were relaxing him, making it easier to say what was on his mind, making it easier to crack stupid jokes and come up with quick quips. He was starting to feel like _himself_ again.

Of course, no one ever stayed in one place to chat for too long. Hiro had been sitting with no one to talk to for a while now, but it was OK. More people would come. He was good. He was feeling himself unwind, the stress and anxiety and depression just _draining_ from his bones. He was on his… umpteenth drink, and he felt a _million_ times better than he had just a few hours ago. Than he had a few days ago.

It was a strange feeling, being intoxicated. _Properly_ intoxicated. He felt heavy with drink, but also like he could just float away at any second. He swayed this way and that way, and it wasn’t a sickly rocking motion so much as it was a pleasant swing. If he closed his eyes he could feel himself hurtling through the air, spinning through space, tumbling down a hill – turning again and again and again. When he opened his eyes, he actually _lurched_ a little, as he came to a complete stop.

No, it was good. He felt _great_. He felt _loads_ better. He didn’t ever want to stop feeling as good as he did right now.

He didn’t want to go back to being sad all the time.

“ _Hiro._ ”

He heard his name, but he didn’t react to it. His senses had been sharp, once, but now they were a bit dull and confused again. He didn’t even know which direction his name was coming from. It took Lizzie’s hand on his shoulder to get his wide-eyed attention. “Hiro, this is _Amanda_ ,” she said above the noise of the music and the laughter and the people surrounding them. She seemed to be pointing to a girl standing beside her, but Hiro couldn’t tell which one. “ _You should talk to her. She really likes…”_

Lizzie said something that made her giggle uncontrollably, but Hiro didn’t catch any of it. He just laughed along with her, because seeing her all drunk and giddy like that was pretty hilarious in itself.

She gave him another pat on the shoulder, and then she was gone. Replacing her was a twenty-something girl who was trying to squeeze into the small space between Hiro and the next person over. Hiro bunched up to the very right of the couch and when he turned his head back to her, his heart stuttered. He was looking into the face of yet another veryattractive lady, with auburn hair and green eyes and flushed cheeks.

She smiled like she was so happy to see him, but everyone smiled a bit like that when they’d had a lot to drink. Hiro was sure he was giving her the exact same smile. “ _Hi there_.” She put out her hand and Hiro managed to shake it without embarrassing himself. “ _Sorry – don’t mind Lizzie. She’s just teasing. I’m Amanda._ ”

“I’m _Hiro._ ”

“ _Hero?”_

“ _Hi-ro,_ ” he put in the effort to pronounce it properly. _“As in the Japanese name – not like ‘I need a hero’ hero. Just Hiro._ ”

She laughed at that, and Hiro couldn’t help himself. He didn’t have his usual inhibitions holding him back, and it just sort of came out on its own, without warning…

“You’re really pretty,” he blurted. He hoped that she hadn’t heard that, but also that she had, because he’d felt in that moment like he’d never uttered a truer thing.

She laughed again, but it wasn’t directed athim at all; she seemed to be genuinely flattered. He watched her painted eyes dip down to glimpse his tiny, scrawny body, awkwardly hung over the arm of the couch. Hiro found himself wishing that he’d worn something a little less childish and a little more _cool_.

She said, “ _You’re pretty cute yourself,”_ and Hiro felt his face heat up. She thought he was… _cute?_

She leaned closer to him, and she was close enough now that he could smell the sweet, rosy fragrance of her neck, or was it her hair, or was it both. She was so close that her warm breath tickled him. “ _Lizzie tells me you like robots.”_

Hiro grinned. Of all the people who’d shown interest in his hobbies, none of them were quite so… female. And attractive. He tried to keep it cool when he replied, “I _love robots._ ”

“ _I’ve never seen one before. I’d love to see how it works.”_

Hiro wanted to show her. He’d lose his seat, but it would be worth it. “ _I have some I made in my room. I could show you, if you’re interested.”_

Her green eyes seemed to smile at him. It was a curious kind of smile. “I’m interested _,_ ” she said, quieter this time. She stood up, full of grace and decorum, and Hiro followed her like an excited, drunken lunatic. She was kind enough to steady him when he threatened to topple over, and he found himself clinging to her for balance. _God,_ she was so _tall_ , and busty, and curvy – but Hiro did his best to pretend not to notice.

“ _This way,_ ” he said to her, and then he started the slow push and shove through the pulsing throng of party-goers. Hiro made it to the stairs and had to walk over smooching couples and other layabouts who seemed to be barring him from going up without stepping on a few fingers. “Sorry,” he said, to no one in particular. There were people _everywhere._ Even in the corridor, people were stretching out their legs, spanning the entire width of the hall. It was hard enough just to get around on his jelly-legs without the swarm of bodies underneath him. “Sorry, excuse me… Sorry…”

Hiro shooed the people that were blocking his bedroom out of the way, and he walked in, flicking on the light as he did. His room looked like a goddamn pigsty, and – God, he really needed to open a window. But at least it was someplace quiet they could talk.

Hiro pinched himself because he must’ve been dreaming. It had been so long since someone had taken a genuine interest in what he did, what he loved to work on. It had been so long since he’d made a friend.

He turned to Amanda with one of his most impressive robots. “This here is Megabot,” he presented. He hadn’t bothered to maintain its deceptively childish face; he couldn’t quite hustle up the kind of cash he used to when he could still pull off the lost little boy act. “He’s only lost about two fights out of at least fifty, and he’s controlled with this device, and…“

Hiro froze as he felt Amanda’s hands on his face, turning his head away from the robot and up towards her. He barely got a glimpse of what was in those glistening eyes before she’d brought their lips together.

Hiro dropped Megabot to the floor. Her eyes were closed, but Hiro’s remained wide open and staring. He hadn’t been expecting her to… do that. He wondered if he’d unknowingly invited her to make-out with him by taking her back to his room. He really had meant to show her all of the cool robots he’d invented, but… Was she even interested in the robots or…?

Hiro didn’t know. He didn’t really care anymore. His eyes slid closed and he gave himself over to her, leaning into the soft press of her lips, feeling his cheeks fill up with heat and spread all throughout his body. Her arms were around his back, and he awkwardly returned the gesture, wrapping his little arms around the concave of her waist. He didn’t know what was happening, but the drink was making him so _agreeable_ , and he never stopped to question anything. Everything felt so nice. Her body felt so good and so warm pressed against him.

A swell of emotion built up inside his chest. Positive emotion. Someone was showing him such affection and attention and Hiro just felt _so…_

_Loved._

He tore his lips away – because he’d forgotten to breathe – but she didn’t stop; she titled her head and moved her mouth down onto his neck, and the licks and bites she gave him made him keen in the back of his throat, low and needy. His breath was ragged by now, and so was hers. His eyes fluttered open and he stared dead ahead of himself, not seeing anything for the longest time, only focused on how every touch made his heart pump faster.

He noticed eventually that he’d been staring at his closed bedroom door. _That’s funny_ , he thought, amongst the haze of desire and drink. He wondered if she’d closed it before she’d even laid a hand on him.

He was pushed back suddenly, and he fell onto his bed, gazing up at the white of his ceiling. His face was flush with arousal, his body tingled and writhed with drunken lust. His eyes were actually starting to water a little, blurring his vision. But it wasn’t enough to obscure the beautiful, beautiful face that he was now staring up into.

“You’re a virgin,” she breathed, and she _really_ sounded like she was banking on one answer specifically. “Righ’?”

Hiro didn’t think it was even possible at this point for his face to burn any brighter than it already was. He turned his head to the side and looked away, because he didn’t even know _how_ to answer that question. Even if he had wanted to.

“I don’t know,” he murmured, and it sounded _exactly_ like the answer an embarrassed teenage boy, who didn’t want to admit he was a virgin, would give. It caused a few notes of discomfort to spike through him.

She smiled and chuckled, still breathless, as she started to lean forward and rest her weight down on him. Her legs were apart and straddling his pelvis. “It’s OK,” she whispered, touching his hot cheek, and Hiro no longer felt the same warmth he’d felt from her almost _moments_ earlier. Now he felt… chills. Her hair and her neck and her body smelled delicious, but it was hard to forget that her breathe still smelled like a lot of alcohol. Like poison. “I’ll make you feel good,” she assured in a kittenish purr. “I’ll make you happy…”

Hiro felt like he had on his birthday, as he was retching into the sink or God knows where. Like his mind had sobered up long before his body could. Like there was discord there.

No. This wasn’t right. Things didn’t feel right. Everything had been so _great_ not one minute ago, but now, he…

She dotted kisses along the collarbone that jutted out from his skin, and it just paralyzed him with shivers. His body felt so… sensitive, so hyper-aware of every brush and touch that contacted it. The drink was making him _feel_ so much and yet react so slow. She was moving one hand under his shirt while the other snaked into his pants and under the waistband of his boxes, and his hips just _bucked._

He didn’t want to go this far. Not today. Not ever.

“Amanda,” he said in a small voice, and she didn’t answer him. She didn’t look like she could even hear him. But of course she could hear him. “Amanda, I-I… don’t… want to-“

She pushed a finger to his lips, “ _Shussshhhh,_ ” and Hiro felt panic jolt through him like he’d been kicked. “Don’t worry,” she said airily. “I’ll take care of it. Just relax.”

“I-I don’t _want_ you to.”

He tried to put out his hands to stop her, to push her _away,_ but there was too much of her he didn’t want to touch. The way she’d pinned her arms to her sides – her breasts were practically spilling out of their cups, out of her shirt. He put his hands on her face, but even then she moaned and leaned into his touch, like it was a gesture of fondness. Of consent.

His legs flailed uselessly behind her. She was crushinghis hips, keeping him in place. His arms were tense and ready to _shove_ , but he didn’t want to hurt her. He just wanted her to stop touching him. He tried again, louder and clearer this time. “Please, don’t… Please _stop..._ ”

She didn’t hear him. She’d heard him and she was ignoring him. He’d told her to _stop._ He’d even been polite about it.

But she still pushed his shirt up to his neck. She still popped the button open on his jeans.

His eyes were wide and fearful as he stared up at her. She looked dark; she was looming over him, her head eclipsing the ceiling light. He stared at her, but she wasn’t looking at him. Not really. Her eyes were lidded, glazed over, distracted by the sight of skin. She didn’t see in his face how much he wanted her to _stop_. He didn’t know how to put it into words; she was just… doing too much to him too fast. He wanted her to stop grinding on him, to stop squeezing his nipples, to just get up and leave his room and _leave his home_.

He was panting hard, he was sweating, he was _choking_. He was _terrified_ of what was going to happen if she didn’t stop. _He_ _had to make her stop._

But she didn’t want to stop. She thought that _he_ didn’t want to stop.

“A-mmm-mm.” He couldn’t even speak. His mouth had dried up. “Mmm-manda, _please_ …”

He couldn’t form coherent words anymore. Cries of panicked protest sounded a lot more like desperate moans the more and more she worked on him. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t breathe.

“You’re so cute,” she kept murmuring, over and over and over again, as she tugged on his jeans and pulled them halfway down his legs. “You’re so cute…” She was sliding down his abdomen. “You’re so cute…” He couldn’t even see her head anymore. Just white. “So cute…”

_Aunt Cass…?_

Something between a gasp and a sob ripped out of Hiro’s throat. His body was _shaking,_ quaking with fear. Even though he was pegged down by her strong hands, his hips were lifting and bucking and rocking against his will, like he was a marionette on strings again, and he _hated it._ He should’ve drunk more. He shouldn’t have drunk so much. He squeezed his eyes shut tight and clenched his jaw and clutched his fists to his face, and he wished – fucking _wished_ he had the courage to just _punch her in the face_ or something,but he didn’t. He couldn’t. He couldn’t hurt another human being, even as they were blindly hurting him.

 _“Please,”_ he breathed in a voice that didn’t even sound like his own anymore. It sounded like it belonged to a helpless, scared little boy. _“Please, stop… please…”_

Just when he thought he was brave enough to sit up, to move himself out from underneath her, _to push her away_ , she took his shaking arms and held them down above his head.She bunched up her skirt, shifted her panties to the side, lowered herself down onto him, and that was it. Hiro had lost all control of the situation. He had nothing. He had no agency, no say in how things turned out now. All he could do was wait it out. He was her puppet now, her toy to use however she liked. He was like a rag doll beneath her, rolling and lolling back and forth lifelessly, twitching and whimpering whenever she skilfully tugged at his strings – the strings that had _always_ been there, that couldn’t be cut. This young woman – who barely knew how to pronounce his _name,_ who had the exact same shade of _green_ in her eyes _–_ had already owned him. Even after it was all over, he’d never stop being hers. It was like she’d taken a piece out of him forever.

The worst fucking part was that it was his own damn _fault_. He’d givenhimself over to her so _willingly_ at first. So naively. And then he’d changed his mind, and she hadn’t. He’d thought that…

Silent tears rolled down Hiro’s hot, humiliated face. He didn’t know what he’d thought. He’d thought that he could _trust_ some people. He’d thought he wasn’t _such a fucking idiot_ anymore _._ He’d thought… lightning didn’t strike in the same fucking place _twice_. He’d thought many things. He hadn’t been thinking at all.

He couldn’t stop thinking of Aunt Cass.

She came just a few seconds after he did. She cried out, going tense and then limp. She was… finally done with him.

Hiro only had to force one of his numb legs to move to make her tumble off him. So easy now. She lay there, sprawled on one side of his bed, breathing deep and humming satisfied. Her eyes were closed and there was a small smile on her face. Like the afterglow was putting her right to sleep in his own bed.

Hiro raised one of his legs to kick her in the head. But he didn’t have time for that. He had to get the _fuck out of there._

He was an awful combination of uncoordinatedly drunk and shakily traumatised as he tried to pull his clothes back on, as quick as he could. He was still quivering with aftershocks. His eyes flittered between what he was doing and her resting body so fast he was making himself dizzy and _sick._ He was already so fucking sick. Nausea boiled in his head and his throat and his stomach and his groin and just – _everywhere._

He didn’t bother with the laces on his shoes; it was just impossible at this stage. He grabbed his phone and his wallet and his keys on habit as he threw open his bedroom door and stumbled out so fast that he almost slammed right into the wall. He looked up into the several startled faces of the people who’d just sat by, literally several feet away, and had done _nothing._ _He_ …

It wasn’t worth it. He had to leave the party. He had to leave the house.

He threw himself down the stairs, no longer concerned with how many fingers he crushed or drinks he knocked over – just trying to press himself through the stinking, _drunken_ bodies that stood between him and the exit. People yelled excitedly at his ear and _grabbed him,_ and he wanted to _scream_ and lash out and cry. He wanted some space to calm down, he wanted to own his own body again, and _no one was letting him._

It was one of his flatmates who’d grabbed him. Lizzie. Hiro had thought she’d looked pissed before, but now she looked like she couldn’t even stand. _“Hey Hiro,”_ she yelled, and she was _laughing_ as she said, _“Haven’t seen you and Manda for a while!”_

Panic surged through him, forcing him to keep moving. He shoved her out of the way, knocking her into someone else, but she was too drunk to care, and Hiro didn’t care. He finally burst through the front door, down the outside stairs, and he caught himself on a parking meter before he flew head-first into oncoming traffic.

 _Why does this keep happening to me?_ His mind was screaming. His headache was _splitting._ _What’s wrong with me? Why does this keep happening? Why me? Why? Why, why, why, why, why –_

 _Breathe,_ some small, rational part of himself – that sounded too much like his big brother – ordered, and he obeyed it, not knowing what the hell he was supposed to do now. He still didn’t feel like he was back in control of himself again. He _wanted_ – he _needed…_ He was scared of what would happen if he didn’t find some control soon. He wasn’t thinking clearly. He _needed_ to think clearly, or he’d... _he’d just…_

_Breathe, come on, deep breaths… In… hold… keep holding… and out… and repeat. In…_

It was working. It was working. He _had_ to believe it was working. The night air was cold and blowing hard and it just made him shiver all the more. He looked down at himself and was _horrified_ to see that he hadn’t even managed to do up his jeans in his panicked escape. He could still hear the party raging behind him. It would be going on for a while yet.

He needed help. He couldn’t go back. He couldn’t stay on the street. He needed to talk to someone before he _threw himself_ under the wheel of a speeding car. He got out his cell and called the first national rape helpline that appeared on his frantic search.

He clasped the cell to his ear as it rang, and he kept up the breathing, focusing _only_ on his breathing, until someone picked up.

The lady on the other end announced her name and service, and asked how she could help.

“U-um.” Hiro swallowed. He had no idea what to say, but he forced himself to speak up. “H-Hello, my name is H-Hiro, and… I-I-I’ve just been raped? By a… a girl?” He paused for a second, hoping to get some kind of supportive hum to show that the operator was listening, but there was none. “Sh… She forced herself on me?” He wished he didn’t sound so unsure of himself. He _was_ sure. “I-I asked her to stop but she didn’t, and…”

_“You think you’re really funny. Don’t ya, kid.”_

Hiro’s heart stopped. “Wh… Wh-What?”

 _“_ Real _victims of_ real _crimes use this helpline, you know. We don’t have time to deal with stupid pranks from boys like you. You should be ashamed of yourself.”_

Before he could even ask her what the _hell she was talking about,_ she’d hung up on him.

His phone was beeping in his ear, and then it wasn’t; he’d clutched his phone so tight – his knuckles white and his palms red – that he felt it fracture in his hand. He chucked his broken phone down on the pavement, breaking it further, and he just left it there. He started to run down the street, as fast as he could go. Running felt good. Running would surely help him get a hold of himself.

There was only one person he wanted to talk to now. There was only one person who understood him. Who didn’t hurt him and make him feel like… everyone else did.

Who believed that his pain was real.

\-------

It was late, Hiro knew that much. By the time he’d arrived at Tadashi’s place, the street bars were quieter, and there were less and less people around to give him nervous, skirting glances when he crossed their paths.

He walked right up to his brother’s front door and felt around for the keys in his pocket. Thank God he hadn’t thrown away the key to his old place in some fit of fury weeks ago like he’d thought; he still had it on him. He slipped it into the door, unlocked it, and quietly let himself inside.

The house was dark. No lights were on. Not even a small bar of light coming from underneath Tadashi’s door. Not that Hiro was bothered by the dark; he could still navigate the house so well after living there for the past few years. He still knew where everything was, including his bedroom door, which he pushed open slowly, careful so as to not make a sound…

He couldn’t immediately tell if Takahiro was there or not. It had been a bit optimistic, Hiro realised. He knew that the kid had been staying with Tadashi while Cass recovered, but there was no guarantee that his dad hadn’t already managed to find a cheap flight back home to take him away.

Hiro stood there in the dark, just staring ahead of himself, until finally his eyes adjusted and he could make out a small lump in the sheets of his bed. He could see a duffel bag that wasn’t his lying on the floor, spilling out small clothes and toys.

Hiro closed the door behind him silently. He was light on his feet as he crossed the room and leaned over the boy. He clicked on the bedside lamp as quietly as he could manage, and Hiro fought to contain the waves of emotion sweeping over him as he stared into Takahiro’s sleeping face. He looked so happy in his dreams, so peaceful. He made adorable little huffing noises when he breathed out.

He hated to do it – it made him physically _sick_ to do it – but Hiro had to keep him from shouting out, from alerting Tadashi to his presence. He held his hand over Takahiro’s mouth as he brought him awake. The boy startled and he squeaked into Hiro’s palm, turning wildly in a panic, and it broke Hiro’s heart.

“It’s _me,_ ” he whispered, barely even above the volume of a rustle, and he waited with desperation in his eyes for Takahiro to calm down and notice him. “It’s me _,_ ” he whispered again, and he felt such _relief_ to see Takahiro’s eyes go wide and shiny at him. He’d stopped struggling now, but Hiro wouldn’t let him go just yet. “Listen,” he breathed. “You have to keep your voice down… It’s a game. If we wake Tadashi up then we both lose.”

Takahiro was just a kid, but Hiro trusted him like he trusted no one else in the world right now. He took his hand away from the boy’s mouth, and he wasn’t betrayed.

Hiro shuffled onto his old bed beside him and Takahiro gave him such a delighted _grin._ Hiro couldn’t believe it. After _everything_ that had happened, after all the trouble he’d caused him, Takahiro still stared at him like was a real-life Santa Claus.

“Hiro-chan,” Takahiro whispered. “I missed you.”

“Yeah.” Hiro smiled. He wanted the light off again because he felt tears in his eyes. “I missed you too, Taka-chan.”

He wanted to hide his tears from Takahiro, but also he didn’t. He hadn’t cried yet. It had been over an hour since that woman had… and he’d managed to keep it all together pretty well. Until now.

It was hard to cry silently. Impossible even. He was thankful the tears made it hard to see just how distraught Takahiro was, but he could still hear it in the kid’s voice. “Hiro-chan,” he whimpered, “why are you crying?”

Hiro laid his head down on the edge of the pillow. He was so faint and tired all of a sudden. The room was swimming around him. He… tried to laugh at his own stupid joke. “Another witch got me.”

Hiro must’ve blacked out then, because he couldn’t remember anything more about that night beyond that. He could only remember waking up the next morning, with Takahiro loosely in his arms, and his brother _screaming_ at him from the doorway to get the _fuck_ away from him.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT = This is no longer the final chapter. This is the shitty first attempt at the last chapter. The REAL last chapter is the next one. (So please just skip this, gosh what a mess I'm so sorry)
> 
> *panting fearfully* o-k so this is the final chapter... Um... happy ending??? I hope this conclusion is satisfying enough... If not then we could always do a third installment HA HA....... .-.
> 
> I'd just like to say, thank you all SO SO MUCH for all of the kudos and comments and feedback I've received from this story! Thank you especially to the faithful readers who always had something to say about every new chapter! You guys were awesome and I really appreciated it! 
> 
> Thanks for reading! And be safe, lovelies! (Remember to go out there and destroy gender assumptions that women can't be sexual abusers/rapists and men can't be victims. Above all, please believe and listen to victims, and help them become survivors. Even if we can't get them justice yet, we can at least help them recover <3)

It wasn’t working. None of this was working.

He’d crossed the line, he guessed. He’d gone too far. Breaking into Tadashi’s house had been… less than wise. Even without all of the atrocious speculations.

Aunt Cass had wanted to call the police. Tadashi was reluctant to get them involved. Apparently, Takahiro wasn’t wearing his PJ bottoms when Tadashi found him and Hiro sleeping together in the morning. Not that Hiro would’ve known anything about that because he _hadn’t done anything wrong._ He hadn’t even attempted to get under the covers with him. He wasn’t Aunt Cass. He wasn’t a drunk stranger at a party. He was Takahiro’s friend, and Hiro would _never_ hurt his friend.

“It gets hot in that room,” Hiro had insisted, and two pairs of eyes just descended on Hiro, like _of course_ he’d be saying all of these things. These very true things. Hiro became frantic. “It gets _so hot_ in there with all of those servers running!”

No one had pointed out that the servers weren’t running anymore. No one had needed to.

Tadashi called to say he’d be late for work. Aunt Cass called in some other staff to run the café for her while she was out – whoever she’d been talking to must’ve asked how long that would be, because she said into her cell, exasperated, “I don’t know, I just want this all to be over. I’m not hanging around anymore than I have to.”

They took Takahiro into another room and drilled him with so many questions that it made the poor kid start to weep before he’d even had his breakfast. Hiro couldn’t hear any specific questions, but he could just imagine the ones from Aunt Cass. _Tell me what I want to hear, Taka. Tell me that Hiro is a deranged pathological liar and a child molester so that I can put him away for good. So that he can stop ruining my life._

None of them knew what had happened to Hiro last night. Not even Takahiro, not really. He hadn’t explained it very well and he hadn’t tried to; he was just a kid after all. So Hiro couldn’t blame them for being… less than sensitive. Aunt Cass and Tadashi, they just… ran around him, shouting at him and each other, pulling Takahiro this way and that. Hiro was so tired; more than half the time he just sat slumped over the kitchen table with his head down. No one poured him out a cup of tea. No one was having any tea.

Tadashi had asked him, _actually_ asked him, and Hiro had felt so insulted. So… distrusted. So vile. His own brother had asked, careful, and with a magnificent pretence of being calm and understanding, “did you touch him, Hiro? Takahiro isn’t saying anything, but I need you to tell me the truth right now. Did anything happen?”

Hiro answered no.

But, honestly, he didn’t know anymore.

\-------

In hindsight, Hiro had no idea how he’d made it as far as he did. He was on an unfamiliar, rocky, even dangerous path. He wasn’t going to last for much longer. He’d kind of needed the intervention.

He’d well and truly run out of money by now; he couldn’t even pay rent to his flat this week, even if he had somehow still wanted to go back there. So, he didn’t have a place to stay anymore.

He’d received a call from his manager to say that he’d been fired before he’d even started a day of work, and – as an extra little ‘fuck you’ from an understandably pissed off businessman – he announced that he wouldn’t be hiring any lazy, discourteous students ever again. So, that was another job he’d have to look for and apply for and sign forms for all over again.

Hiro was fairly sure that by now he’d missed some _major_ requirements of his courses, but Tadashi was still inexplicably nice about it. He’d said something along the lines of, “we’ll just put a hold on your studies until you’re feeling better.” As if Hiro could just… pick them back up again when he was ready. But that couldn’t be true. Could it? Even PhD students couldn’t pull strings like that, could they?

Hiro didn’t understand. He’d been scared – terrified, petrified – that he would fail to get his qualifications. The same qualifications that he’d practically _bragged_ about not needing, because he was such a self-motivated, self-taught _genius._ He’d had visions of Tadashi _losing it_ as he admitted, in his small voice, that Tadashi couldn’t go to his graduation ceremony because he hadn’t shown up to classes or turned in final projects in the last few months, and he’d blown the entire year as a result.

But… Tadashi had barely chastised him. He just put a hand on his little brother’s head and whispered, with shiny eyes, “I’m still so proud of you,” and made Hiro cry too.

He ended up moving back. To Tadashi’s place, that was. Apparently his big brother had been trying to move a girlfriend in there with him, little by little, but he’d stopped when his brother came home. Tadashi had insisted that it was fine, completely fine, but it still made Hiro feel like a worthless, pathetic scumbag when Tadashi had to kiss her goodnight and send her back home.

Not that he would’ve felt much better if she had stuck around, especially at night. Hiro was sure that there was nothing wrong with her. But he was finding it unnaturally hard to feel comfortable around women. Especially ones who acted all sweet and caring, who had beautiful eyes and gorgeous hair and smelled like roses, but were probably horrible people underneath.

Something had changed in his brother. Hiro could feel it. It was like, Tadashi was finally _seeing_ him for the first time. He was finally seeing just how deeply other people’s actions and attitudes had affected him, and messed him about, and made him ruin his own life. Hiro tried to have drinks every night, and Tadashi could see that he was on the cusp of developing some sort of drinking problem, because he knew that his brother still _hated_ the taste of beer, but he still tried to down at least a few bottles each night. Hiro tried to make light of it. But Tadashi had seen right through him.

Tadashi was so sympathetic now. He was a good brother again. Sometimes, on really bad nights, Hiro just _cried_ – for no reason, for every reason – and Tadashi clutched him and trembled and _promised_ that it was going to be OK again, he was going to make everything OK again, and he was _sorry, so_ _sorry_ that he’d ever turned him away, that he’d ever been unsupportive and doubted his pain for a second. He said that he didn’t know what the _hell_ was going on with him, but he didn’t care. He just wanted his little brother to be OK again.

Hiro had started therapy pretty soon after that, because of _course_ he neededit. He needed a lot of it. He’d needed a lot of it _four years_ ago. He’d been warned to take it seriously, that maybe sometimes he’d be told to complete tasks that would seem boring and stupid to a genius like him, but it wasn’t about smarts. It was about engagement, it was about healing. That said, he was assured _plenty_ of times by his brother that if nothing was working out, and if he wasn’t making any progress, then they could always… shop around for someone better. A therapist who could really relate to him.

Hiro did end up shopping around. He had to, for his specific case. He needed a male therapist for one thing, and he needed someone who was competent and sensitive with male rape victims. Not a lot of people were. But eventually he’d found someone who was supposed to be good. Hiro had laid back in the chair, looking disinterested and doubtful at first, but it didn’t take him very long to open up and tell his therapist everything. Absolutely everything.

And it started to work.

\-------

Aunt Cass had made it very clear that she wasn’t happy about Hiro getting his own therapy. She’d even implied several times that she didn’t really _want_ Hiro to get better and come back to the family again. To Tadashi, this had started to look a lot less like stubbornness, and more like… an admission of guilt. Almost as though she were fearful that she’d have to face the consequences of her actions. Which were more severe than she had initially described to her oldest, most trusting nephew.

Hiro had laughed when Tadashi told him, hard and humourless. She didn’t _need_ to be afraid, he said, because there was _no way_ he was going to take her to court.

And he hadn’t needed to either, to ruin her.

Mere months before the wedding, Tadashi met with Yasuo in private. He explained everything, without Cass there to meddle with the facts and manipulate her fiancé into believing that _she_ was the victimised party in the Hamada family drama. Tadashi explained, in the calm and reasonable way that Hiro hadn’t, that it might be worth protecting his son. But it was still his choice.

A few days after that, Hiro heard that Yasuo had left Cass and taken Takahiro with him. The sudden break-up had left Cass broken and lonely and back to square one. Tadashi was around the Lucky Cat café almost every night during those weeks to console her, to explain that it wasn’t her _past_ that was ruining her present, but the constant _lies_ and manipulation. The fact that she never admitted to her faults, and never really apologised for them. The fact that she almost drove her youngest nephew to the very edge.

Hiro would never see his aunt again so long as he lived, and she seemed perfectly content to never see him again too, at this stage. But he was still tentative about Tadashi seeing her so often, what with the way she’d turned him against his own little brother so well. But Tadashi had insisted that it was fine. He tried to frame his visits in a positive light for his anxious brother: he said he preferred to think of it as… he was making sure that she was keeping out of trouble.

Hiro supposed he could deal with that.

Yasuo hadn’t kept in contact with any of the Hamadas, and Hiro didn’t blame him. After everything that he and his son had been put through... Hiro had been hoping that he could’ve at the very least had the chance to say sorry to Takahiro, before he disappeared from his life forever. He wanted to apologise for putting _so_ much pressure on this kid, for putting him in danger, for getting him into trouble, for not being _normal_ around him. He’d wanted to say one final goodbye, but…

Some things just didn’t work out.

He’d kind of ‘saved’ him, in a way, Hiro thought. That was something. Even if Aunt Cass had never abused him in the same way she’d abused Hiro, she still hadn’t changed. Not really. Hiro liked to think that he’d saved Takahiro from having a manipulative, deceitful, emotionally abusive Okaa-san. He deserved someone so much better than that. Someone who loved him.

Maybe, if he was lucky, Hiro thought, Takahiro would grow up and forget that he’d ever existed at all.


	16. Ending Re-write

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *groans and waves tiredly* So my good friend suggested that I re-write the ending (Chapter 15), since I guess I wasn't overly happy with it anyway, and DooBeDooWa was kind enough to point out some major flaws that I had overlooked. So I re-wrote it, adding some new stuff, retelling old stuff, or blatantly just reusing the old stuff. This re-write won't make the ending perfect (oh no), but I'm hoping it's at least a little bit better and adds a bit more than Chapter 15 (which I'll still keep up because why not .-.)
> 
> Thank you for your support, friends... *crawls into a hole and dies*
> 
> (sequel on it's way if people are interested because why not .-.)

He’d crossed the line, he guessed. He’d gone too far. Breaking into Tadashi’s house had been… less than wise.

Getting into bed with an eight year old that he’d specifically been told to keep away from looked dubious, at best.

Everything was such a blur. Hiro didn’t feel as if he were really there. He didn’t feel as though he’d really woken up yet; he was detached, disorientated. Disillusioned. Aunt Cass was suddenly walking around the place and Hiro couldn’t even tell if she’d been there since Tadashi had forced him up out of bed, or if she had been called to come over.

They two of them were frantic about something. Apparently Takahiro hadn’t been wearing his PJ bottoms when Tadashi had found him and Hiro in bed together. Not that Hiro would’ve known anything about that because he _hadn’t done anything wrong._ He hadn’t even attempted to get under the covers with Takahiro. He wasn’t Aunt Cass. He wasn’t a drunk stranger at a party. He was Takahiro’s friend, and Hiro would _never_ hurt his friend.

“It gets hot in that room,” Hiro had said, and two pairs of eyes just descended on him, like _of course_ he’d be saying all of these things. These very true things. “It gets hotin there with all of those servers running…”

No one had pointed out that the servers weren’t running anymore. No one had needed to.

None of them knew what had happened to Hiro last night. Not even Takahiro, not really. He hadn’t explained it very well and he hadn’t tried to; he was just a kid after all. So Hiro couldn’t blame them for being… less than sensitive. Aunt Cass and Tadashi, they just… ran around him, shouting at him or each other, pulling Takahiro this way and that.

Hiro was so tired; more than half the time he just sat slumped over the kitchen table with his head down. No one poured him out a cup of tea. No one was having any tea.

Tadashi had asked him, _actually_ asked him, and Hiro had felt so insulted. So… distrusted. So vile. His own brother had asked, careful, and with a magnificent pretence of being calm and understanding, “did you touch him, Hiro? Takahiro isn’t saying anything, but I need you to tell me the truth right now. Did anything happen?”

Hiro answered no. But, honestly, he didn’t know anymore.

His brother believed him. Aunt Cass didn’t.

\-------

He eventually got a clue, his older brother. Tadashi realised that something was very wrong with Hiro. That he had shown up unexpectedly for a very crucial reason that he wasn’t sharing for as long as Aunt Cass hung around, periodically yelling in his face.

She wasn’t doing anyone any favours by shouting accusations at Hiro, demanding confessions from Takahiro, and picking fights with Tadashi when he tried to ask her to calm down and _shut up_. She was hysterical. Madly gleeful. She didn’t stop until Tadashi had somehow managed to move her out of the room.

Things seemed to calm down after that, if only on the surface. Finally the incessant _yelling_ in Hiro’s ears ceased, and they rung with relieved silence. If only for a few seconds.

He could feel Tadashi take a seat beside him at the table. He could feel him take a couple of deep, calming breaths. Like he was trying to prepare himself. “Hiro,” he started, gentle, “why did you come here last night? What’s wrong?”

Tears gleamed in Hiro’s eyes – not that his brother could see. His hair was obscuring them completely. God, did he need a haircut.

He didn’t say anything for a long time. Tadashi was the one to break the silence again. His voice had lowered right down to a hesitant whisper. “Did someone hurt you?”

It was like his disclosure all over again. Only now it was being dragged out of him.

“Yeah,” Hiro answered, and his voice sounded so gravelly and shivery that he could barely understand himself. He tried to clear his throat, sounding disgusting, probably, but it didn’t stop Tadashi from coming closer to him. “It… happened again.”

“What happened again?”

Hiro didn’t answer immediately. He started to shake his head and then he jumped when Tadashi reached out to hold the side of his little brother’s head, shaking and urgent and caring.

“Hiro, _please_ tell me. _Please._ ”

Hiro still managed to shake his head again, even as Tadashi tried to keep it still. “You won’t…” He sniffed. “You won’t believe me, though.”

“Try me.”

Hiro didn’t want to. “You already don’t believe me.”

Tadashi moved his thumb across Hiro’s cheek and he felt his older brother go stiff at just how _wet_ with tears it was there. It was too much. Hiro couldn’t hold back a whimper, and then his brother’s arms were around him, practically squeezing the life out of him – what remained of it anyway. It felt good. But Hiro wanted it to feel real.

“Hiro, I…” Tadashi took a deep, shuddering breath. “Look, I _know_ I’ve been a really _fucking_ terrible brother to you lately. I said some things a few weeks ago that… I really shouldn’t have. And I’m _so, so_ sorry. I’ll admit that I usedto think you were just…” Hiro felt him gulp. Like he was reluctant to say it. “Just… embellishing the truth, as Aunt Cass liked to say, but… Hiro, if _this_ is how you react then… something’s _wrong._ You’re like how you were back then, when we were still living in her house. No – fuck, you seem so much _worse._ ”

He started to caress Hiro’s cheek with his thumb lightly, rubbing away the tears. Hiro let him.

“You spend so much time worrying about Taka-chan, Hiro, but… it’s _you_ that I’m so worried about… Something happened to you last night, didn’t it,” he said, and Hiro tried to turn away from him then. His brother was so, so _spot on_ and yet that just made Hiro want to push him away all the more. He squirmed in his brother’s grip, but he couldn’t get out. “ _Please,_ Hiro, _please…_ I _will_ believe you, I promise you. Your pain is _real_ to me. I can see it now. I have… no idea how I never saw it before, but _I see it now, please._ ”

Aunt Cass came bustling in through the door then, and Hiro clammed right up and rocked back in on himself – _away from her_.

“Tadashi,” Hiro could hear her muttering, sharp and menacing, “I’ve been talking to Taka and something _happened_ to that boy – I think we should call the police right now before he can–“

“Aunt _Cass,_ ” Tadashi growled, letting go of his little brother to stand from his chair. “We already asked him – _both_ of them, and they said no. You’re not _doing_ this right – you’re not a licensed professional who can ask a kid these kinds of questions and get reliable answers. For crying out loud – you offered to give him _cake_ for breakfast if he told you that Hiro had done something to him.”

“It builds trust and encourages a _confession,_ ” she hissed.

“ _No_ , it encourages _lies,_ ” he snapped.

They were at each other’s throats. They were shouting again. Hiro dug his nails into his scalp and it hurt – it hurt so much – but it was the only thing he could think to do to distract himself from what was going on right now. He wanted to get out. He wanted to be as far removed from reality as possible. He wanted to _cope._

He went to the fridge and pulled out the first alcoholic beverage he saw.

“What the hell is he _doing,_ ” Aunt Cass cried suddenly, no longer under the pretence of a hushed conversation. “So he’s a _drunk_ now, is he? Jesus Christ, Tadashi, just _look at him._ He shouldn’t be anywhere _near_ children!”

“ _Get out,_ ” Tadashi yelled, and the door slammed so hard in her face that Hiro winced.

Before Hiro could even fumble the cap off, Tadashi strode back to him and ripped the bottle right out of his hands. “What are you doing? Since when did you start drinking? Wha…” He caught sight of blood underneath his little brother’s fingernails. It made Hiro feel woozy just to look at, and he tried to hide them. “Where did that blood come from?” he demanded, grabbing Hiro’s shoulders and holding him in place. Tadashi sounded like he was having trouble breathing. “Hiro? _Just…_ Just calm down, Hiro,” he said, suddenly slow and soothing. “It’s her, isn’t it? I’ll make her leave, OK? Just calm down – _don’t_ move _._ ”

Hiro did as he was asked, but only because he was too exhausted – too scared to go anywhere else. He lifted his head a little and watched his brother storm out of the room, and raised voices flooded the hall. They were angry, confused, defensive, panicked. Just under the shouting, he could Takahiro crying his little heart out.

Hiro just wanted to find a hole somewhere he could crawl into and die because he was causing so much trouble. He was ruining lives. He was ruining _everything._

He tensed as the voice intensities changed. The crying increased, Aunt Cass’ yelling increased, and he watched on in horror as she passed the kitchen, clutching Takahiro’s arm with one hand, his duffel bag in the other, and she was _dragging him_ out of the house. Tadashi ran after them, but the front door still slammed. Her pickup truck still roared to life and sped down the street.

She’d taken him away.

Tadashi came back into the room, and Hiro thought that a part of him looked dead. He sat down in front of his little brother and tried to smile, and be calm and comforting, but he looked like he wanted to cry just as much as Hiro did.

“She’s gone now,” Tadashi assured softly. “OK, Hiro? She’s gone now. You can…” He sighed. “Talk to me.”

“She lies to you,” Hiro managed to get out, and Tadashi turned his ear towards him to hear better. Hiro swallowed hard. Made his voice clearer. “She _lies_ to you.”

Tadashi flashed a broken smile. “She tells me that youlie to me, too.”

Hiro shook his head side to side, fiercely denying it. “ _No._ I neverlied – about _anything._ ”

Tadashi sighed again and looked away and raised a hand to rub at his conflicted head. “She told me that, four years ago, you lied to me. She said that… You and her…” He shook his head, trying to find the words, or perhaps the courage to say the words. “You had an incestuous relationship, behind my back. She said it was… _completely_ consensual. That you initiated it, being a... _healthy,_ ” he sighed, clearly uncomfortable, “teenage boy. And, after a few months, you panicked. You thought you’d get into trouble or something, so… you told me that she had been sexually abusing you.”

Hiro had been shaking his head the entire time. None of it was true. His head and his neck _ached_ but still he kept shaking. “I never wanted to,” he whispered. “She _made_ me.”

“Well…” Tadashi gave an utterly helpless shrug. “You never really wanted to talk about it. And, when I asked her, she would… say a lot of things. About that time. You know? And, honestly… just… little things, here and there, they seemed to fit. Like how you didn’t want to go to the police? Or get therapy? Those dreams… Why you’d… taken so long to tell me–“

“Shut _up,_ ” Hiro cried. “ _J-Just…_ ” There were a lot of things Hiro wanted to say to his brother. So many things – he didn’t know where to start or where he would end. So he just settled for, “You’re such a fucking _tool._ ”

Tadashi looked hurt. But he nodded. He accepted it. “Y-Yeah, I… I guess I’m just… such a gullible tool, right? Easily manipulated…”

He was silent for a while. Hiro could see that his brother was struggling to be strong for him. His lip quivered, and his gaze often slipped to the floor and clouded over. Like a voice was going through his head, repeating over and over again how much of a toxic idiot he’d been all this time.

“So, not only is she a sexual abuser,” Tadashi came out laughing, but it didn’t sound right. It sounded so jarring. So pained. “But she… manipulates people, emotionally. Mentally… Wow.”

“She’s paying your loan,” Hiro murmured, and Tadashi looked back at him curiously. “She has such a hold over you and you can’t even see it.”

“…But she’s so _nice,_ ” Tadashi cried into his hands. He let out a long, defeated moan before coming back up. “ _God…_ I’m so sorry, Hiro.” He reached out for his little brother’s hand and Hiro didn’t see the point in not taking it. Not when it hadn’t been his stupid big brother’s fault. Not really. “I’m sorry I let her do all of this to you. I should’ve just… stayed away, like you told me to. Back when I took you away from her.”

Tadashi squeezed Hiro’s hand, but Hiro didn’t squeeze back. Not yet. He couldn’t trust his brother again just yet.

“Did… more of the same happen last night,” Tadashi asked. His expression _begged_ Hiro not to say anything, not to put him through all that knowledge, but Tadashi still pleaded with him. “Did… someone… Aunt Cass…?”

Hiro shook his head no. “S’embarrassing,” he murmured.

“Embarrassing?”

“S’my fault.” Hiro shrugged, looking away.

“Hiro, I’m sure it wasn’t.”

Hiro hadn’t meant to say anything more. But suddenly his body felt like it was falling, like someone had kicked the floor out from underneath him, and he was going through with this, whether he really even wanted to or not.

“There was a party, at my flat. I met a girl… I took her up to my room to show her my robots, but…” The more he spoke, the more Hiro’s limbs felt like they were about _drop off._ He was speaking and listening to himself at the same time, in real-time, and it was strange. “She… was really drunk… too. I was drunk. She… pushed me down and…”

Hiro’s gaze lifted slightly to stare into his brother’s face. Tadashi’s eyes were wide and horrified. Like he didn’t want to hear anymore.

“Forget it,” Hiro tried to say, but Tadashi grabbed him.

“No,” he choked out, so earnest. “ _No,_ keep… Keep going. What happened then. Did she – this girl, did she…?”

Hiro tried not to be discouraged. He tried to keep going. His face was hot with the memory of it, the humiliation of having to tell his older brother. “She must’ve thought I was a virgin,” Hiro said quietly. “I told her I wanted her to stop, but… she… didn’t… She raped me.”

Tadashi winced at the word, as he always did.

“The fucked up part of it was,” Hiro continued, “that… I actually… Before any of that stuff happened, she kissed me, and there was a moment where… I don’t know. I actually liked it?” He heaved a sigh. _Stupid,_ he thought. “I shouldn’t’ve… I should’ve just… I don’t fucking know.”

“Hiro.”

“What?”

He started when Tadashi put an arm around him. He touched their heads together lightly and Hiro tried to remember the last time he’d felt so close to his brother. “Hiro, I’m _sorry._ ”

Hiro blinked, confused. “Why are _you_ sorry.”

“I just am, buddy, OK,” Tadashi said, and Hiro heard tears in his voice then. Proper tears. “None of this would’ve happened if… if I hadn’t been such an ignorant _asshole._ If I hadn’t forced you to see Aunt Cass again… Maybe you wouldn’t have moved out. Maybe you wouldn’t have relied on a _kid_ to be your friend. Maybe you wouldn’t have ended up like this.”

“Shut up, _asshole_ ,” Hiro said, but there was a smile to his voice. He put an arm around his brother and patted him as he began to cry. “A lot of things happened for a lot of reasons. Why don’t you just stop with your ‘maybe if’s and prove that you’re not a horrible person anymore by actually _doing_ something about it.”

Tadashi laughed as he cried. It was such an _ugly_ sound. It was good to see that he was still such an ugly crier and always would be. “Yeah, buddy,” he croaked, holding him close. “We’re gonna make things better again. I promise. I’m here for you.”

All Hiro could think in that moment was thank _God_ he could finally let Takahiro go.

\-------

Hiro moved back in with his brother. Outwardly, he complained about it. Hiro had wanted to find a small one-bedroom place to _himself,_ with no roommates and no parties, but Tadashi had absolutely _insisted_ that he stay with him, at least for a little while. Hiro made a big show of being annoyed, but a small part of Hiro was so thankful, so _relieved._ He’d spent _weeks_ missing his brother like he’d lost a part of himself, and he desperately wanted to just spend time with him again, just hanging out and watching movies and playing games, and talking about _anything_ other than why he was back there. Why he had ever moved out in the first place.

The place was the same as usual; nothing had changed at all in the few weeks Hiro had been gone, except where Tadashi’s bedroom was concerned. Hiro poked his head in there to find that there were any awful lot of _girl_ clothes and _girl_ products in there. But before Hiro could make the assertion that his brother now worked nights as a drag queen to fund his studies, Tadashi explained that he’d been having his girlfriend over a lot when Hiro had moved out.

That had been alarming to hear.

Tadashi offered to introduce the two of them, and Hiro had answered _no_ a little too quickly. He started to apologise when Tadashi cut him off to say that he _completely_ understood, and that he wouldn’t have her over anymore for as long as his little brother was back home. It was nice of him, and Hiro really appreciated having what Tadashi started to term “guy time” with him. But it still made Hiro feel like a pathetic scumbag when his brother and his partner had to go out just to have dinner together.

He had to wonder sometimes if he was completely broken. If he couldn’t even be in the same _room_ as an attractive, older woman without feeling tense. Especially women that acted all sweet and caring, who had beautiful eyes and gorgeous hair and smelled like roses... Those were the ones to watch out for.

They were probably horrible people underneath.

Hiro didn’t said goodbye in person to any of his flatmates. It was rude, he knew, but he was beyond caring. Tadashi had managed to find a friend with a free car to move Hiro’s stuff around during the day, when the house was empty. Hiro had half-expected the house to still be trashed from the party, and his room to have all kinds of nasty stains throughout it, but it was surprisingly clean and intact.

Not that he could bare to spend more than two minutes in there anyway.

Once they were on their last trip, Hiro sat down and wrote a note. It didn’t say very much, it didn’t sound very emotional. All it said was: _Thanks for letting me stay here, sorry it didn’t work out, do something about that mold on the shower curtain._ He left the note on the kitchen table, leaving a few hundred dollars – the very _last_ of his money – for them to make do with before they could get another flatmate. And then he left that place forever.

Later, he would send an email to Lizzie. He’d ask her for her friend’s name – Amanda, was it? Did Amanda have a surname? Contact details?

Hiro didn’t expect that he’d ever get a reply back, but instead he got something much worse.

Lizzie denied ever having a friend called Amanda.

\-------

Later that day, Tadashi told Hiro to seriously consider getting some therapy, because of _course_ he neededit. It was clear to the both of them that he needed a lot of it. He’d needed a lot of it _four years_ ago. So Hiro found one and booked a very expensive appointment for the following week.

He’d been warned by his brother to take it seriously – that maybe sometimes he’d be told to complete tasks that would seem boring and stupid to a prodigy like him, but he was reminded that it wasn’t about smarts. It was about engagement, it was about healing. It was about learning how to cope.

That said, Hiro was assured _plenty_ of times by his brother that if nothing was working out, if he wasn’t making any progress, then they could always… shop around for someone better. A therapist who could really relate to him. Who could understand him and the way his mind worked.

Hiro did end up shopping around. He had to, for his specific case, because his first art enthusiast therapist had left much to be desired from a single session. No, Hiro needed a male therapist, for one thing, and he needed someone who was competent with and sensitive to male rape victims. Not a lot of people were, as it turned out. But, eventually, he found someone who was supposed to be good.

Hiro had laid back in his chair, looking disinterested, staring at wall paintings and saying very little at first. But, as the weeks passed, he revealed more and more information about himself, and he built up a proper relationship with his therapist. Talking to him was almost as easy as it was talking to Tadashi. It gradually got to the point where Hiro felt comfortable enough he could finally tellhis therapist what he’d been through, and Hiro had almost cried right then and there when his therapist had smiled and promised that he believed him.

That was all Hiro had ever wanted, really. For someone to believe him. That alone took a huge weight off his shoulders.

\-------

Hiro was going to have to take a bit longer than originally planned to finish up his studies. By the time he’d made it back to SFIT, he’d missed some _major_ requirements in most of his courses. Hiro had kicked himself, but Tadashi had still been inexplicably nice about it. He’d even promised him: “We can just put a hold on your studies for a while until you’re feeling better.” As if Hiro could just… pick them back up again when he was ready. Like higher education was no big deal to the _PhD student_ who was going to revolutionise the world.

Hiro had been terrified that he would fail to gain his qualifications. The same qualifications that he’d practically _bragged_ about not needing since he finished high school, because he was just such a self-motivated, self-taught little _genius._ He’d had visions of Tadashi _losing it_ as he admitted, in his small voice, that Tadashi couldn’t go to his graduation ceremony because he hadn’t shown up to classes or turned in final projects in the last few months, and he’d blown the entire year as a result.

But… after learning what Hiro had been going through, Tadashi didn’t even so much as tut him. He just put a hand on his little brother’s head and whispered, his eyes shining, “I’m still so _proud_ of you,” and made Hiro cry too.

\-------

A lot of things happened during those weeks without Hiro’s knowledge. While he was staying at home, tinkering with his battle bots, occasionally venturing out to meet with his therapist and tell him a little more about how shitty the world was, Tadashi was hard at work. Not only was he on the cusp of finally earning his PhD, but he was also dealing with a whole lot of family drama.

He reported back to Hiro one evening, as he leaned over the kitchen counter and poured himself out a generousglass of wine. He told Hiro everything that had happened that day, everything that Hiro had missed, and quite honestly was _glad_ that Hiro had missed.

Tadashi had told Yasuo everything. From Cass’ abuse to her manipulation tactics to her bribery to her outright _lies_ – Tadashi had spilled it all, meeting with him in secret, and Cass called Tadashi about an hour later to tell him that she had been dumped. Yasuo had left her and taken Takahiro with him. The wedding was off.

Hiro had laughed and _revelled_ in her karmic misery. But he quickly stopped after Tadashi had picked up another call from her right then.

Apparently she couldn’t stop crying.

 _At least Takahiro is safe from her,_ Hiro thought to himself. With any luck, that kid would grow up just fine and forget that he’d ever even meet the Hamadas.

\-------

One fine day, Hiro sat down at the small dining table, taking out a pen and paper. He was going to write a letter. It was his therapist’s idea. Aunt Cass had contacted him out of the blue with her letter on his birthday; it seemed only fitting that Hiro would end all further communication with her with a letter of his own.

It took him _hours_ to write it. His handwriting wasn’t what it used to be, having spent the last few years using his computer to write down everything he needed to. He couldn’t even find lined paper to keep his sentences straight, and they ended up all lopsided and all over the place, but none of that mattered. What was important was the words themselves. How he said them.

_Aunt Cass,_

He could already tell that it was going to be a long letter. And he knew that, no matter how much he ended up writing, he could always make it longer. He’d need to write on both sides of the paper.

_I should start this letter on a positive note, because I doubt by the end of it that I’ll finish on another one. First off, I should say thanks for raising me and my brother. As far as I can remember, you actually used to be a pretty good guardian, back when I was still a kid. You seemed to really be there for Tadashi when our parents died. He really admired you. It’s a shame because you used to be so fun and nice – I don’t know what happened. One day you were awesome, and the next you were an abuser. It’s kinda weird how that happens._

_Tadashi told me that you… Actually, I don’t really know. I don’t know if you were lying when you told him that your abuse was actually ‘consensual sex’, or if you just really are that delusional. You seemed to think back then that I actually loved you… I think you mentioned once that you were really lonely and stressed out from work a lot. You probably hadn’t thought things would turn out the way they did – raising your dead sister’s kids. Tadashi has to remind me that you lost someone dear too. But even then, you had to know that what you were doing was wrong, right? You were my aunt, and I was your YOUNG nephew. I trusted you like I trusted no one else (except for Tadashi I guess). And you betrayed me._

_I think I never really got a chance to explain how I felt back then, when I was fourteen, so I’m going to do it now. More than anything, I was confused. You were my aunt, who I loved a lot, and then you were doing all of these awful things to me. I didn’t really even know what you were doing most of the time. Well, I knew (kinda) but I didn’t know if it was OK or not because YOU were doing it, and I trusted you so much. Also, you made me feel like I could never say no to you. I tried to back out of things I REALLY didn’t want to do, but you never let me – you just complained or told me I was your mature young man or tried to bribe me with cake. You know, I actually used to really love cake. But I can’t eat it anymore; I get so sick now. Because it reminds me of you._

_You never really noticed (or maybe you did and ignored me, I don’t know) but I stopped being… normal. Tadashi wasn’t around a lot of the time, and I didn’t have any friends or other people I could turn to for help. I just sat at home all day, hoping that you wouldn’t come up, and then hoping that you’d leave quickly when you did. I got so depressed, and anxious. I didn’t eat right, I didn’t sleep right. I tried not showering because I thought maybe that would repel you, but you just showered with me. And I hated it even more than what you usually did, so I just gave up. I gave up on a lot of things. I didn’t even build or invent anything during those long months._

_You didn’t know this – Tadashi doesn’t know this – but I actually thought about killing myself. Not in a serious, contemplative way – more like in a ‘oh wouldn’t that be a better alternative to having her blow me again’ kind of way. I was so afraid that nothing would change – that I’d never get into SFIT or move out or get a job or have a future or anything – that I thought about it, and that really freaked me out. So I told Tadashi about you. And we got out and left you behind. And things were OK for me again._

_Yeah, just OK. Not great. I think that tends to happen when you’ve suffered months of abuse from your trusted caregiver. I never really got back to how I used to be. I was building robots and actually DOING something with my life again, sure, but I still felt bad a lot of the time. I got really worried about clinging onto Tadashi too much, even though I didn’t put in much of an effort to make friends. I didn’t want to. Girls (and some guys wow) hit on me and implied they wanted to fuck me and it sickened me. I never dated, because what if I ended up feeling trapped and used again? Like when I was with you._

_Well, despite my efforts, it still happened again. A few weeks ago, there was a party with alcohol, and a girl with eyes like yours raped me. It was one of the most terrifying things I’ve ever experienced. But of course that’s not your fault. Except that it kinda is, because you turned everyone against me and alienated me and made me so vulnerable that I got wasted just to feel good. I went with the first person who showed me ANY affection, and they took advantage of me. They didn’t love me or care about me at all – they just wanted to fuck me. And yeah, I wasn’t doing too good after that. That was my rock bottom._

_Good thing about rock bottoms is that there’s nowhere else to go but up, right? ~~Except for suicide~~_

_When I got your letter, on my eighteenth birthday, I drank until I made myself sick. That’s just how much you scare me. You were this horrible, twisted monster in my mind by then, and I’d already escaped from you once. And then you were trying to reach out to me and trying to hurt me some more by pretending like nothing bad had ever happened. I didn’t know why. I still don’t really understand WHY. I DIDN’T report you to the police. I had hoped you’d show a little gratitude by leaving me the fuck alone or something. But no – you had to get me to clear your filthy conscience, and you used my own brother to bully me into seeing you again. I reacted in THE sanest way I could’ve possibly reacted, given the situation, and then everyone thought that I was the bad guy. It wasn’t fucking fair. You turned ME into a monster._

_I suppose I should apologise for constantly accusing you of molesting Takahiro. I guess you really didn’t. But could you blame me, after what you did to me? I’m sorry that Takahiro burned you and I’m sorry that we told Yasuo the truth about you and he left, but… Did you even get that you were LITERALLY DRIVING ME CRAZY? Did you know how fucking sick to my stomach that made me? When you accused ME of doing the exact same shit that you did? When you told Tadashi that I had been LYING ALL THIS TIME ABOUT WHAT HAD REALLY HAPPENED TO ME?_

_What you did to me when I was fourteen was HORRIBLE, but what you did to me a few months ago was just as bad. I was stubborn and didn’t help things, I know, but you really messed with me, and messed with me some more. I guess the good thing that came of that was that I don’t feel conflicted about you anymore. You made it perfectly clear just how little I mean to you._

_I get really angry when I think about you now, and what you did to me and my brother. I feel angry and so scared that you’ll try it again. It would’ve been nice to have had some closure and real explanations, etc. but… I don’t think we’re really ready for that yet. Or if we ever will be._

_Anyway, I’m sorry that I ruined your life. Maybe one day you’ll be sorry – ACTUALLY sorry – that you tried to ruin mine._

_(Tadashi will be watching you to make sure you stay out of trouble.)_

_Not So Kind Regards,_

_Hiro_

He put down the pen, finally – his writing hand aching and his heart beating fast. He didn’t read back over the letter. He just folded it up, slid it into an envelope, licked it closed… and tucked it away in his bottom drawer.

He didn’t post the letter.


End file.
